Where Love May Lead
by emi-kins
Summary: SUMMARY: Prequel to Elenath. Legolas travels to Rivendell to meet his betrothed, but things do not work out as smoothly as his father and Lord Elrond had wished.***Complete***
1. The Council of Calmakil

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
***A/N***Okay, I'm posting this as I write (instead of waiting until it is finished), so the quality might not be quite as good as the others. But I hope that you enjoy it!  
  
1.  
  
"Under the starlight before the sun and moon came to be," began Lord Elrond, his blue eyes glinting in the soothing glow cast from the Sword in his hand, "the Elves were born to Middle Earth and fell at once into warfare against Darkness. None know how long we strove on our own before the Valar discovered us and, desiring to protect us, summoned us away to Valinor. Not all answered the call, and those of us who chose to stay behind were left a weapon with which to protect ourselves."  
  
All who sat in the circle of Elves cast their gazes upon the stone table before them. Upon it, Elrond laid the Sword wrought by Aule himself to be given to the Elves. Calmakil.  
  
"Calmakil," stated the Elven Lord, gesturing toward the elaborately carved blade in its jeweled scabbard. "The Sword of Light was borne first by Imlanion who passed it to Nefulmair. Nefulmair passed the Sword to Aredolas who perished in battle having named no one to carry it should he fall. In those days the Sword spoke freely for all to hear, and it chose as its bearer Andborond. Since that day, Calmakil has always selected a new bearer for itself. After Andborond, Calmakil chose Gayalambir, then finally Durion who was my grandson and heir to the throne of Rivendell." Elrond paused for a moment. "Prince Durion was slain by Wargs as he traveled over the Misty Mountains. One hundred years have passed since that terrible day, and now the time has come for a new bearer to be named."  
  
Calmakil seemed to brighten in response, inspiring awe in those who had gathered.  
  
The finest Elven warriors of Middle Earth had traveled to be present at the Council of the Sword. Elrond had not summoned them. Rather, they had begun to arrive at the last new moon saying they had dreamed the sword was calling them to Rivendell. Now, in the darkness of another new-moon night, they had gathered in the glowing light of Calmakil, their fair faces bowed in reverence. Who would be chosen to bear the Sword? Who would be given the title and responsibilities of Protector of the Elves? It was an honor desired by all who were courageous and pure of heart, perilous though it was.  
  
Among them sat one Elven female. Princess Elenath was Elrond's granddaughter and a newly appointed warrior, having just left the tutelage of her Uncle Thorondil. She was Durion's sister and had retrieved the Sword when her brother fell to the Wargs, and it was for that reason only that she was present at the Council. She had earned a place of honor.  
  
Elenath fit in quite well among the warriors, for she did not dress as a Princess. She wore a long tunic over leggings and light boots upon her feet. Her raven hair was pulled back on top in the fashion of Rivendell's Royal Guard, the rest of it hanging in loose ringlets down her back. The only hints of her royal standing were the golden circlet upon her head and the fact that she had her grandfather's eyes. Eyes that seemed to take in everything around her all at once. Eyes that caught those of Legolas, the Prince of Mirkwood, who sat across the circle from her.  
  
Elenath blushed and looked away quickly, recalling the way he had watched her all the previous day. Seeing her alone upon a bridge overlooking one of the many burbling streams of Rivendell, he had approached her boldly and bowed, taking both of her hands in his own. "My Lady," he'd said, "Tell me that you are Lady Merethiel and I shall be the happiest Elf in all of Middle Earth! For your beauty shines bright and I feel in my heart that a match between us would be a joyful one."  
  
"I am sorry," she had replied, taken aback by the prince's forward manner. "I am Princess Elenath. Lady Merethiel is my cousin and dear friend. And what is this talk of matches?"  
  
Legolas' countenance had fallen slightly. "Alas! I am betrothed to Lady Merethiel and had hoped for a glance before I return to Mirkwood. But my heart shall be glad if she is even half as lovely as you, Princess." Then he had pressed his lips gently to the back of her hand before retreating to her grandfather's house, leaving her stunned upon the bridge.  
  
Betrothed? Merethiel? Elenath's mind was spinning again as she recalled the conversation. She had not had time to talk with her cousin about this yet and wondered why Merethiel would not have told her that she was to be married, as Legolas said, in one year's time. Elenath would have to find her cousin after the Council was concluded and tell her how lucky she was, for the Prince of Mirkwood seemed both handsome and kind. He would make a perfect match for the sweet, prim, and proper Merethiel.  
  
The princess' thoughts came to a halt as the Sword brightened once again.  
  
"We shall wait in silence until Calmakil speaks," said Elrond at last. "Whoever is chosen shall come forth and take up the Sword."  
  
*My brother's Sword*, she thought to herself, *The only thing I have that reminds me of him…and soon it will be taken away.*  
  
They waited for what seemed like many hours before the sound of a metallic whisper pierced the night. Even with her keen Elven ears, she could not quite hear what it said; nor could anyone else. They all leaned forward, striving to listen. Then finally, one word was clear.  
  
The Sword whispered, "Elenath."  
  
Nobody moved; not even the princess. Surely there was a mistake. Surely she had heard wrong. She looked around herself in confusion.  
  
"Elenath, Princess of Rivendell" it said again, quite clearly this time.  
  
A pointed look from her grandfather prompted her to stand and walk uncertainly toward the Sword, but she stopped when she noticed the varying degrees of outrage, confusion, and anger that showed on the Elves' faces. "Forgive me Grandfather, but who am I to bear the Sword?" she asked shakily.  
  
"You are the chosen one," he replied. "Now take your place, Child, as Protector of the Elves."  
  
"She has bewitched it!" exclaimed Dimnarion, one of the Elves from Mirkwood. "It is ludicrous! A female? It cannot be!"  
  
There were echoes of agreement throughout the group as Elenath stood still, more confused than she had ever been. 


	2. The Sword's Decision

LEGOLAS FAN FICTION  
  
TITLE: Where Love May Lead  
  
AUTHOR: Emily Kinsman  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily Kinsman (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
SUMMARY: Prequel to Elenath. Legolas travels to Rivendell to meet his betrothed, but things do not work out as smoothly as his father and Lord Elrond had wished.  
  
2.  
  
Princess Elenath glanced calmly around the circle. Aside from the white- knuckled balled fists at her side, her royal bearing hid her own outrage. Why did they stare at her so? It was not as if she had chosen herself to bear Calmakil. In fact, she was just as surprised as everyone else at this turn of events. "I swear upon my life that I have not bewitched the Sword. Such a thing would be impossible."  
  
Elrond's brow was furrowed in anger. "The sword has spoken," he said. "Elenath, take up Calmakil and assume the title that is rightfully yours!"  
  
One of the Elves from Mirkwood – Elenath believed his name was Raion – stood up and stepped forward into the circle. "Please do not, Lady. Forgive me, but it is a burden too great for any female to bear."  
  
Elenath's mouth tightened into a stubborn line as she tried not to say anything that she would regret to the ignorant warrior from Mirkwood. It was hard to believe that after all she had gone through to earn her ranking among the Royal Guard of Lord Elrond, there were still those who would treat her as a defenseless china doll. She practically shook with the effort of keeping her tongue under control when the Prince of Mirkwood came to her rescue.  
  
"Take your seat, Raion," he said, "Princess Elenath is just as much a warrior as any of us here, taught by one of the best Masters in all of Middle Earth. I have heard songs sung of her mighty deeds on battle fields far and near."  
  
She nodded to the prince in thanks and then fixed a level stare upon the rest of the Elves in the circle. "The fact that I am a female has nothing to do with my ability to bear Calmakil. I have passed the trials set forth for me by Master Thorondil, and I was with my brother on the day that he fell –"  
  
"Retrieving the sword and fighting bravely to defend the rest of her companions," Thorondil finished for her, standing. "Why else would she be present here? She sits in a place of honor on this council and you all would do well not to forget that fact!"  
  
All who had gathered bowed their heads in reverence, for Thorondil was one of the most respected and highly decorated Elf-warriors in all of Middle Earth.  
  
"You would let the princess take up the sword?" asked Raion.  
  
Thorondil nodded. "She is a gifted warrior – the most talented student of swordplay I have ever taught."  
  
Elrond shook his head at the discussion. "This is not our decision to make. The sword has chosen." He gestured for Elenath to take it once more, and she gazed up at him with her eyes full of uncertainty. "Unless, of course, you refuse?"  
  
"I would never refuse, Grandfather," she answered and stepped toward the glowing Blade. Calmakil called her clearly now, tugging her with irresistible force. Would she be rendered unconscious as her brother had been when he took up the Sword? He had lain as one dead and woken many weeks later full of the knowledge of the previous Sword-bearers. Yet, it mattered not to Elenath for her hand tingled with the need to have the weapon in her hand. The Council had erupted once more into loud argument, but she ignored them as she reached out to take Calmakil in hand. As soon as her fingers touched the hilt, the Sword spoke in a voice like rushing waters, "Elenath is the Chosen One, and with her my long silence shall one day end!" Then it emanated a blinding flash of light, and all who had gathered watched in horror as she sank slowly to her knees and fell unconscious to the ground. There was no reversing the Sword's decision now. 


	3. The Subject of Love

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily Kinsman (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
3.  
  
She woke the next day with her mind full of the memories of former Sword- bearers, her fingers still curved around the hilt of Calmakil. Feeling that she must have been unconscious for at least a year, she sat up slowly and looked around herself, smiling at the form of her mother who stood with her back to her, gazing out through the Wood at a rocky waterfall.  
  
"A gift was left for you, Dear," said Llilwen softly without turning around, "It is there on the bedside table. Apparently you have made a bit of an impression on the Prince of Mirkwood."  
  
"How long was I asleep?" asked Elenath as she reached for the parcel that was nestled beneath a lovely spray of roses.  
  
"You are very strong, My Daughter, and stubborn to boot! It was only last night that you took up the Sword Calmakil and sent the entire Council into an uproar."  
  
The younger Elf silently read the note that was attached to the gift and smiled. My eyes shall never forget your beauty, nor my heart your courage. I am ever your servant, Legolas. She knew at once that he had begun his journey back to the wilds of Mirkwood and wished that she could have bid him farewell.  
  
"In the end," continued Llilwen as she turned and regarded her daughter with mild curiosity, "Most vowed their service to you, should you need it. But beware Dimnarion of Mirkwood, for he would not pledge his loyalty and would rather see the Blade in his own hand." She paused, watching a gentle blush rise to her daughter's cheeks as she read the note. "Surely the prince does not court you?"  
  
"No! No, Mother, of course not." A jeweled dagger glinted from the package when she opened it. "Though I surely would not refuse his attentions if he did so."  
  
"Your grandfather is concerned for you. Legolas has been promised to another for many long years now - an arranged marriage is to take place in one year's time."  
  
"I know." Elenath told her mother of the strange encounter that she had with Mirkwood's Royal Son. "Why did Merethiel say nothing to me about this?"  
  
"Because she does not know."  
  
***  
  
Indeed Lady Merethiel did not know of her upcoming wedding. Four times the moon waxed and waned before Elenath finally gathered her courage and approached her grandfather's throne where he sat in deep conversation with his royal advisors. She stood silently with her head bowed until he acknowledged her, his eyes shining with pleasure. "Ah! My lovely granddaughter! To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?"  
  
She regarded her grandfather with open fondness. As was the way with Elves, he had hardly aged a day since she was born almost a thousand years before. His long dark hair was plaited in a small braid at each temple; the rest of it hanging loosely down his back. He sat straight and tall, a regal figure even among the proud Elves of Rivendell. "Have you time to walk with me?" she asked, reaching to take his hand.  
  
"Of course!" he said, and immediately adjourned his meeting. "Come, we have things to discuss, do we not, Elenath? You are nearly one thousand years old and still have not cast your eyes favorably upon any possibly mate."  
  
His advisors chuckled at this as they dispersed. The day that Elenath found a mate would be the day that Orcs shed their evil ways.  
  
She blushed and looked at the floor, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her pointed ear. The old Elf had been obsessed with finding a proper mate for her since she celebrated her eight-hundredth year. "I am sorry, Grandfather. I have other matters on my mind. The subject of love has not even occurred to me since I was given the Sword."  
  
"Ah, VanimaOhtaramin My Beautiful Warrior. You work too hard and should turn your energy to matters of the heart. Is there no Elf that has caught your fancy?"  
  
The two of them linked arms and strolled out into the garden. "None that are available to me, but it is not my romantic prospects that I came here to discuss with you."  
  
"None that are available? Perhaps he can be made available. Who is it?"  
  
She was silent.  
  
"Oh, come now, you can tell me."  
  
"Why has Lady Merethiel not been told that she is betrothed to the Prince of Mirkwood?"  
  
"Ah," said Elrond flatly. "The Prince of Mirkwood."  
  
"Yes, the Prince of Mirkwood! He approached me on the eve of the Council thinking, or rather hoping, that I was Merethiel."  
  
"He would not be a good match for you, My Dear."  
  
She stopped walking and turned to face him, her face flushing with indignation. "I did not ask you if he would be a good match for me! I asked why Merethiel has not yet been told!"  
  
"Calm yourself, Elenath. It is to be a surprise for her upon her Eight Hundredth birthday. I think that she will be thrilled!" He cast a gleeful smile at her, which faded quickly. "As for you… think no more on the lad. He is heir to the throne of a distant kingdom, and my heart would break if you left Rivendell."  
  
"Of course, Grandfather. I would never presume to steal my cousin's betrothed, but I think that she should be told at once. The Prince will arrive tomorrow, expecting to embrace his future wife. Besides, what if she is not happy? It will ruin her birthday!"  
  
"What is there to be unhappy about? He is a valiant warrior, a natural leader, and kind and handsome, so I am told by the she-Elves of my Court. I am really rather fond of him. Lady Merethiel will be as well."  
  
"Aule's Anvil! You cannot be sure of that! The hearts of she-Elves are obviously beyond your understanding. Besides, one of these days if you push her too far, that sweet, demure exterior of hers is going to give way and then Rivendell will know the true meaning of fury!"  
  
"Fine, then," he said. "You tell her. I am surprised you have not already done so for you are the most headstrong female I have ever known!"  
  
Elenath laughed. "Mother says that I take after you!"  
  
*** 


	4. Breaking the News

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily Kinsman (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
4.  
  
"What do you mean I am to marry the Prince of Mirkwood?!" Lady Merethiel's outraged shouts could be heard throughout the House of Lord Elrond and indeed, throughout the entire Elven kingdom of Rivendell. It was a good thing that the said prince had not yet arrived or he would have heard as well.  
  
Elenath rested her hand comfortingly on her cousin's shoulder as the she- Elf continued to rant, her fair face growing scarlet with rage. "I have never even met him! And Rivendell is my home. I do not wish to leave here for some dark, moldy forest!"  
  
"I certainly understand your surprise," said Elenath, "but truly, Grandfather thought that you would be pleased."  
  
"Well, I am not!" seethed the Lady, her voice rising hysterically. "I am so sick and tired of being a perfect and proper Lady and doing whatever anyone bids me to do. And I am sick and tired of never losing my temper! Can you blame me for being upset? Betrothed since the day I was born and never told about it until today? Elenath, I am 799 years old!"  
  
"No," said Elenath softly, "I cannot blame you." She could not help but smile at the way they had traded places. Usually, Elenath was the hysterical one while Merethiel calmed her with her softly spoken words.  
  
"Why?" asked Merethiel. "Why me?"  
  
"I know not, my friend, but I know how it feels to be handed a surprise that turns your whole world upside down." Indeed the princess's life had changed quite a lot since the Council of the Sword. She now trained for long hours with Thorondil and the other members of the Guard, and was ever ready to bear Calmakil to the aid of any Elven army in distress. Even now, saddlebags were packed and ready for her in the event that an urgent call would come. Grateful that her world was currently at peace, she squeezed Merethiel's hands. "Please do not be so quick to dismiss Prince Legolas. Put yourself in his shoes for a moment and imagine how he will feel if you snub him outright. At least give him a chance. You are lucky that Grandfather will even allow you to make your home away from Rivendell."  
  
Merethiel sighed and sank down onto her bed. "Fine. But I am telling you now that this is not about the prince. I do not want to marry anyone at this time, and I am not like you. I don't want to leave Rivendell. Did you meet him?"  
  
"What?" asked Elenath.  
  
"The Prince of Mirkwood. He was at the Council. Did you meet him?"  
  
"I did, briefly."  
  
"What is he like?"  
  
The princess turned away to hide a blush and tucked one of her small braids behind her ear. "You will like him. He is handsome and kind with eyes like a lovely blue lake on a calm day…" her voice trailed away and she sighed.  
  
"You! You like him!" Merethiel fell backward onto her bed. Her eyes glazed with shock and then melted into a conspiratorial grin. "You! Why, this is wonderful! You shall marry him instead of me. It's perfect. You want to leave Rivendell and I want to stay."  
  
"But Merethiel-"  
  
The Lady rambled on, seemingly in her own world. "It makes perfect sense! After all, you are a princess and he is a prince. And I have heard he is quite good with a bow while you are good with your sword. How does the saying go? 'My bow shall sing with your sword-?'"  
  
"Merethiel!"  
  
She shook her head and looked up at Elenath. "Oh! What? It makes perfect sense, does it not?"  
  
"First of all," said the princess, "While I do find the prince quite… intriguing… I would hardly say that I could marry him. Second, Grandfather wouldn't agree to such a union, remember? He does not wish for me to make my home anywhere but Rivendell." She sighed. "I am virtually a prisoner here."  
  
"Then what am I, if I marry him? An exile?" The younger Elf looked as if she might cry. "How could Grandfather do this to me? Why has he found reason to punish me?"  
  
Elenath sat next to her and gave her a one-armed hug. "He does not seek to punish you, Cousin. In fact, he believed he was rewarding you."  
  
"Must I marry him tomorrow?"  
  
"No, of course not. I'll see to it that the wedding will not take place until you and Prince Legolas are ready."  
  
Merethiel regarded her with adoring eyes. "Thank you, Elenath. You are a true friend. But what about you? You have never shown interest in any Elf before."  
  
Elenath shrugged. "I shall simply have to let my thoughts wonder on other paths, My Friend. Do not worry."  
  
*** 


	5. Wounded

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
5.  
  
"It did not go well," said Lord Elrond as he gazed at his granddaughter. "I heard her protests all the way out here." The two of them sat on a bench in one of his many gardens.  
  
Elenath gently took her grandfather's hand. "It is as I feared, Grandfather. Merethiel is not at all pleased."  
  
"The Prince of Mirkwood will arrive tomorrow afternoon. What will we tell him when he appears? There is much at stake here, Elenath. Our two kingdoms must put their differences aside. A Royal Marriage is the ideal way to begin such a process."  
  
I will marry him, she thought, surprising herself. What on earth had gotten into her? She had only met him once, after all! Shaking her head more at herself than anything else, she said, "Merethiel has agreed to give him a chance, and I will ride out with Thorondil on the morrow to ensure his safe arrival. Please, Grandfather, do not worry. These things always have a way of working themselves out."  
  
***  
  
The next morning found Elenath riding next to her uncle, her hand upon the hilt of Calmakil. The day had been eventless until the prince arrived with his guards and a small band of Orcs had attacked. She had watched with great admiration as Thorondil adeptly nocked arrow after arrow to his bowstring, picking off the horrid, slimy creatures one at a time before battle was even joined with the contingent from Mirkwood. It made her wish that she had paid more attention to her archery lessons, though she had shown no talent for it at all. So mediocre was she that she had eventually put her bow aside altogether in favor of the sword.  
  
As was the custom, the two warriors had remained hidden from their guests, though the prince cast a careful gaze about him, nodding his thanks in the direction from which the arrows had come. As he did so, Elenath tried to still her rapidly beating heart. What was it about the Prince of Mirkwood that affected her so? She shook her head again as they silently followed their guests to the borders of Rivendell and then turned back to make sure there were no more Orcs nearby.  
  
***  
  
The sun had sunk low in the West when the putrid smell of the enemy greeted the nostrils of the two scouting warriors once more. There were indeed orcs nearby – the hideous beasts. Why had they come so near to Rivendell? Even before she smelled them, Elenath could sense their presence through the Sword. It practically quivered in her hand as if eager to slay them.  
  
"They are many," whispered her uncle. "We should flee now and come back with reinforcements when they do not expect it."  
  
The words were no sooner spoken than the orcs attacked them from all sides. Calmakil sang in its metallic voice as Elenath drew the Blade and began to slash viciously at the creatures, burning pain exploding across her left shoulder as one of their blades met her flesh. Spinning about on her horse, she slew the one that wounded her and then bolted into the wood toward Elrond's palace after Thorondil, leaving the wretched beasts far behind.  
  
The princess knew her wound was grave, for the blade that had pierced her had glinted with Orkish poison. She also knew that she had little time to reach her grandfather who could counter the effects. Concentrating on what he had taught her, she continued to ride hard as she softly sang the healing chants to herself, thereby warding off the deadly bite of the poison a little longer.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, the she-Elf stumbled into the palace and headed straight for the door of the throne room where three unfamiliar guards from Mirkwood stood watch along with the regular two. All five moved quickly to stop her. "I am sorry, Princess," said one, "But you may not pass."  
  
"I must see my grandfather," she said. Her voice sounded strange; her words slightly slurred.  
  
"He holds audience with the Prince of Mirkwood, and he asked that the meeting not be disturbed."  
  
A look of pain clouded the princess' face for a brief moment. "This is important," she said through clenched teeth as she continued to clutch her shoulder beneath her cloak. Grave though her wound was, she did not desire to make it public knowledge. She had her reputation to keep up, after all, and did not want to be seen as a week female – especially by Dimnarion who regarded her with a hostile sneer on his face.  
  
"Princess?" asked the guard, stepping forward to pull back the heavy woolen garment. "You are wounded!"  
  
She sighed in frustration. "Yes. I command that you let me pass."  
  
Without another word, he picked her up in strong arms and burst through the throne room door despite the protests of Legolas' guards and the princess herself. 


	6. The Meeting

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
6.  
  
Legolas Greenleaf's gaze drifted back and forth between Lord Elrond and Lady Merethiel, his future wife. The she-Elf was not happy, to say the least, and he could not say that he blamed her. To have been told of her impending marriage only a day before she met her betrothed must have been quite a shock.  
  
"Merethiel," said Lord Elrond, "have you nothing to say to your future husband?"  
  
"Indeed I do, Grandfather, though I've much more to say to you," she said angrily as she turned to the prince and curtsied low. "Your Highness, I cannot marry you. I am sorry. My home is here in Rivendell and I have no desire to leave despite my grandfather's assumptions that I would jump eagerly into your arms upon your arrival."  
  
Legolas' brow furrowed as he nodded to the Lady. "It is I who should apologize, for it was my understanding that you would be told long ago of this arrangement," he shifted his gaze to the Elven Lord at his right, "and given the choice to abdicate your position as future Princess of Mirkwood. Apparently this was not the case."  
  
Merethiel's eyes softened a bit at this. "Please understand, Prince Legolas. I have no quarrel against you, but as I have said already, I do not wish to leave Rivendell."  
  
The prince waited for a moment, hoping that Elrond would speak, but the Lord of Rivendell had actually turned his back on them and stood looking out between the columns of the throne room into the Wood while taking slow, deliberate breaths. Legolas had seen his father do the exact same thing when trying to control his anger. "Rivendell is a beautiful place from what I have seen so far," said Legolas, hoping to diffuse the situation, "but Mirkwood is lovely as well, My Lady. Perhaps you would like it."  
  
"No," she said, casting a defiant stare at Lord Elrond's back. "I am sorry."  
  
The Elven Lord suddenly turned, his fiery tempter barely under control. His eyes were as black as coal. "Merethiel, I do not know what has come over you. Do you know what this match would accomplish? We have not had strong ties with Mirkwood for many thousands of years-"  
  
Merethiel stood up straight and seemed to grow in stature. "And you want me to fix it! Do you have a problem? Just give it to sweet, lovely, lady-like Merethiel and she will take care of it! She has no feelings! She has no life! And the Valar forbid she have any preferences!" Her fiery gaze seemed to sear through Elrond. "You fix your own problems, Grandfather, and leave me out of it!" She poked a finger into his chest. "You are not going to use me like some… game piece… to achieve your goals! Why don't you pick on Elenath for a while? She wishes to leave Rivendell though you forbid it! Maybe you can make her life more miserable instead of mine and confine her to her quarters! Lock her up when she wants to be free and send me away though I wish to stay!" With that she turned as if to storm out of the room, stopping short as the doors burst open and a guard stepped in with the struggling princess in his arms.  
  
"Put me down!" Elenath demanded. I've come this far and I can still walk!"  
  
The throne room fell silent at once as the guard set her on her feet.  
  
Elrond's face was crimson with anger already and it darkened even more at the interruption. "What is the meaning – "  
  
Her knees gave out beneath her and she flopped into a sitting position on the floor. "Forgive me for interrupting," she said slowly, "I bring ill tidings, for there are orcs on the border Rivendell…" Her eyes glazed over as she began to waver where she sat. "Many… Thorondil… army…" she mumbled incoherently before her breath left her and she finally fell face-first onto the floor. She was still conscious but had not the strength to move or to speak.  
  
"Elenath!" Elrond cried out, the angry red draining quickly from his face. He knelt beside her and gently removed the bloodstained cloak. "You are wounded! What happened?"  
  
"Orcs," she whispered, gazing up into his eyes when he rolled her onto her back. Then she spoke the dreaded words. "The blade was poisoned."  
  
"Let me see," he said, tugging at the hand clutching her shoulder.  
  
"I am sorry, Grandfather… your meeting…"  
  
"No meeting will take precedence over you, My Jewel. You are far more important. Now come, let me help you."  
  
She slowly removed her hand to allow him access, and as soon as she did, blood poured forth from the wound.  
  
"Can I help?" asked Legolas, drawing near as Elenath felt her grip on the waking world slipping quickly.  
  
"Try to keep her awake," answered Elrond as he ordered attendants to bring medicines, water, and bandages.  
  
He gazed at her with eyes bluer than the clearest autumn sky and spoke so softly to her that no one else could hear. "Alas, Lirimaer Lovely One," he said, "Each time I behold you, you are taken so quickly from me."  
  
"Forgive me, your highness," she murmured.  
  
He took her hands in his own, sending waves of warmth through her body. "Stay yet a while with me, I beg of you. We have not yet been formerly introduced. I am Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood." He bowed as best he could in his seated position.  
  
Elenath smiled. "I am Elenath," she whispered, "Princess of Rivendell and Bearer of Calmakil. I am your servant, Prince Legolas."  
  
Legolas. She could spend a thousand years gazing upon his fair face and never grow weary of it. Yet her heart despaired for she knew he was pledged to another. 


	7. A Traitor in Rivendell?

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
7.  
  
"This is not the usual Orc-poison," said Elrond as he inspected Elenath's wound again. She had fallen unconscious moments before as he had finished the healing chants, and he shook his head. "Her condition is grave. Far too grave for my liking, but I can do nothing more. Merethiel?"  
  
"Y-yes, Grandfather?" she stood next to him, her gaze fixed to the ground where Calmakil now lay, her anger having been smothered by the sight of her cousin and best friend lying motionless on the floor.  
  
"Find her parents, Child. Make haste." He hesitated a long moment before adding, "They will want to say goodbye."  
  
All of the color drained from her face, and she ran for the door.  
  
"Wait!"  
  
Stopping at once and turning around, she was surprised to see the hint of tears in Elrond's regal eyes. Her own voice was choked with fear and grief. "Yes?"  
  
"I…" he took both of her hands into his. "I am sorry for…" With that, he shook his head and took her into his arms. "I love you, Merethiel. You are my granddaughter, and I promise you that my intentions were good."  
  
"I know," she whispered before turning and fleeing down the hall.  
  
Elrond knelt next to Elenath, his tears finally overflowing and spilling down his cheeks. No sound escaped him as he gently lifted her from the floor and held her tightly in his arms. After a moment, he sat upon his throne again, cradling her like a baby in his arms as the Prince of Mirkwood stood watching in silence.  
  
Their eyes met then – the Lord of Rivendell and the Prince of Mirkwood. Legolas' heart wrung with guilt, and he quickly cast his gaze aside and down at the floor.  
  
  
  
"This is not your fault," said Elrond, "and she would tell you as much if she were able."  
  
"If not for me, she would not have been abroad this day."  
  
The elder Elf chuckled sadly. "Do not be so sure of that, Prince Legolas." He gazed at his granddaughter with great sorrow in his eyes, "She has a free spirit, this one."  
  
"Is there no hope?"  
  
"There is always hope, even if it is very little."  
  
At that moment, her parents rushed into the room, their eyes haunted with some untold tale of their past. It was apparent to Legolas that this Elven couple had been through this before.  
  
"Oh, my precious daughter," Llilwen whispered as she knelt at her father's side, caressing Elenath's silken cheek. "What have you done?"  
  
Airedolas, Elenath's father, stood beside his wife, his face a mask of shock as if he could not believe this was happening. Not again. "By the moon and stars, Elrond. What has happened?"  
  
"Orcs. May the Valar help her, they used grimleaf."  
  
"Grimleaf?" Legolas' face paled. "Are you certain?"  
  
"I am," replied Elrond.  
  
"But that would mean-"  
  
"It means that the Orcs had Elvish help!" Merethiel burst out as she came through the door. Grimleaf was grown only in the protected Wood of Lothlorien and was used in many powerful healing mixtures. By itself, however, it was a deadly poison. "Who would dare? I'll… I'll kill them myself!" 


	8. A Tale and a Miracle

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
8.  
  
A wave of unyielding grief had descended over the Realm of Rivendell as Elenath lay pale and motionless on her bed, barely breathing. Gone were the gay Elven tunes and laughter; the light-hearted stories and carefree merriment. Not a single smile could be found throughout the kingdom. Even the trees seemed to weep. It was as it had been before Elenath was born; before she had come to them like a shaft of sunlight through black clouds.  
  
"Have you heard the tale of Elenath's birth, Prince Legolas?" asked Lady Merethiel as they stood on the banks of a small pond, looking out toward the setting sun. The fiery resistance she had given had all but faded away with her guilt. She had told Elenath that she would give the prince a chance, and then she had gone back on her word. Now she was determined to make it right; even to go to Mirkwood if she must.  
  
"Nay, Lady. I have not."  
  
"Five hundred years before Elenath was born, shadow descended upon Rivendell in the form of a dark sorcerer."  
  
Legolas' eyebrows arched in surprise. "Darkness? Surely not here in this bright realm!"  
  
"Indeed, it was dark, or so my father says. The sorcerer came looking for shelter and for food, but Elrond would not grant it, for the traveler was obviously evil. When my grandfather sent him away, he set a terrible curse upon Rivendell." She paused a moment and sat down on the soft grass of the bank, inviting Legolas to do the same. "That no offspring would be born; not to tree nor beast nor Elf. At that time, Llilwen was pregnant… and the curse caused her to give birth to the child far too early. He died before he could even live. And then, for five hundred years, this was a barren, dreadful place."  
  
"It must have been a powerful sorcerer to overcome the magic of Elrond! How was the curse broken?"  
  
The shadow of a smile crossed Merethiel's face. "Gandalf the Grey. Such miracles that wizard can work! He came to visit my grandfather, sensed the heavy darkness and drove it away. Many of our people did not believe that the curse had ended, for it was the dead of winter. But Llilwen and Airedolas believed. Before the winter ended, she was with child once more."  
  
"Elenath?" asked Legolas.  
  
Merethiel nodded. "She is very precious to us; a reminder that darkness does not last forever. That is why Grandfather will not let her leave."  
  
***  
  
"She is weak and poorly trained," Dimnarion fumed. "How could Lord Elrond allow her to carry Calmakil?"  
  
Raion shook his head. "Even you must admit that she is neither of the things that you just said. Most would not have made it home again had they been poisoned with grimleaf. Yet I agree with you that Elrond should not have allowed it. There are reasons why females are not usually warriors."  
  
"Many reasons," agreed Dimnarion, his green eyes glinting dangerously in the moonlight beneath his pale-blond hair. "Things can be much… worse for them if they are captured in battle."  
  
"Exactly. Yet, she was chosen and so we are bound. I will do what I can for her if she lives. You should do the same, for where would we be without Calmakil? These last hundred years have been dangerous times."  
  
"And we face one hundred more such years if she dies," agreed Dimnarion slowly. "I still say that if she had been properly trained, she would not have fallen."  
  
Raion shrugged. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. Every warrior has been wounded in battle no matter how great his skill."  
  
"Perhaps if I talk to her…" Dimnarion muttered. "Perhaps if I explained why she should not bear the sword she would give it up willingly."  
  
"I doubt it greatly."  
  
"Then perhaps if I showed her… taught her a little lesson."  
  
"Lessons cannot be taught if she dies," sighed Raion. "Now enough of this grim talk. I crave silence."  
  
"What," sneered Dimnarion," So you can say your silly prayers to the Valar? Old legends they are, bereft of power…"  
  
Raion glared at him and walked away, his heartfelt prayer for Elenath's life rising on the wind to be carried to Valinor.  
  
***  
  
There were many healers in Rivendell, and all gathered near to Elenath's bed, singing the healing chants that had failed Lord Elrond before. The she- Elf's parents and grandfather sat upon her bed, holding her cold hands and touching her cool brow, speaking soft, tender words to her as her breathing became more and more shallow.  
  
"It won't be long now," whispered Elrond.  
  
Thorondil came quietly into the room then with Calmakil in hand and stood beside Elenath's bed, his head bowed in sorrow. "Father…Llilwen…Airedolas, please forgive me… May I…? She wished to die with a sword in her hand. I would like to grant it… if I may."  
  
Llilwen nodded at him, unable to say a word, and he gently took Elenath's hand, carefully curling her long, elegant fingers around the hilt. Leaning near to her, he whispered in her ear, "You fought bravely….Come back to us soon, Love."  
  
Then the most amazing thing happened. The Sword began to glow, sending pulsing white light toward her wounded shoulder. Before long the light had completely surrounded her and lifted her inches above her bed. Color returned to her cheeks; full breaths filled her lungs with life-giving air. Then, as she was settled back down onto the bed, her eyes flickered open and a peaceful smile spread upon her face. "I have been in the most amazing place," she said, "the most amazing place I have ever seen." 


	9. Plots and Schemes

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
9.  
  
Llilwen's shriek could be heard throughout the house of Elrond and in the garden where Merethiel leapt to her feet and echoed it. Wild-eyed, she looked toward her cousin's bedchamber. "Excuse me, Your Highness," she said to Legolas. Her eyes were suddenly deep pools of grief "I… I must go!"  
  
"Of course," he said, reaching out to catch her hand in his. "I shall be here… should you need me."  
  
She nodded her thanks and fled into the house, down the hall and up the stairway to Elenath's room where she stopped short. Her eyes must be deceiving her, for her cousin was alive and well, sitting upright in her bed and talking to those who had gathered! Before she could stop herself, she issued a joyful scream and launched herself onto the bed. "Elenath! Elenath! You're alive!"  
  
"Indeed I am, cousin!" she laughed and hugged her close. "I saw Iluvitar, the Creator of all. And I traveled the halls of Valinor and spoke with the Valar. It was… amazing, Merethiel!"  
  
"What? What did they say to you?"  
  
"Alas, I cannot remember. But I do remember their faces and the grandeur of their halls! I wish that you could have seen it."  
  
Moments later, Legolas appeared in the doorway, an arrow nocked to his bowstring, pointed downward. All turned to him when he arrived and he nodded his respect. "I heard Lady Merethiel cry out. Is all well?" Then he looked to see his future wife embracing and laughing with the one who had been so close to death only moments before. "By the sea and stars! Rivendell *is* a magical place!"  
  
***  
  
*Ah, so the wench has finally died,* thought Dimnarion as frenzied screams echoed through the courtyard. *Stupid chit. How dare she presume to take up the Sword when it should have come to me? But I took care of it, didn't I?* He thought back to his recent journey to Lothlorien where he had obtained a large amount of grimleaf. Even the great Lady Galadriel had fallen under his spell and given of her stores freely – to help the Elves of Mirkwood, of course.  
  
Lies! Lies and deceptions! Dimnarion thought himself very clever for pulling them off. The grimleaf he had given to his friends the Orcs who, in payment, were to wound Elenath. Surely they had taken their sweet time in doing so, but his plan had worked! It took every ounce of self-control he had to keep a mournful expression on his face instead of laughing with outright glee as he took the steps two at a time up to the deceased's bedchamber to offer his help.  
  
The sight that greeted him when he arrived there had him cursing under his breath in the doorway, though he quickly changed his demeanor when Legolas saw him there. "Your Highness," he said, his voice full of concern, "I heard someone cry out. Is everything alright here?"  
  
Elenath's laughter suddenly stopped when she looked up to see the prince's bodyguard standing in her doorway. "You!" she said, not bothering to hide the accusation in her voice. Calmakil quivered in her hand and she struggled to her feet, not caring in the least that she wore only a light chemise. The Blade seemed to take hold of her, body and voice. "Traitor!" she shouted. "Dirty traitor! You dare to call yourself an Elf!" Her firm words contrasted sharply with the confusion that shone in her eyes even as she held the point of Calmakil to his throat. "The evil deeds of a wicked person will ensnare him; the cords of his sin hold him fast. He will die for lack of discipline, led astray by his own great folly!"  
  
Dimnarion stood tall and silent, his eyes burning into hers, his expression carefully neutral. "The poison has gone to your mind, Princess."  
  
She trembled where she stood, her parents reaching out for her as Legolas looked on, wide-eyed. All of the color had drained from Merethiel's face, and Lord Elrond seemed the only calm one in the lot.  
  
All could see the struggle in Elenath's eyes as she shuddered uncontrollably, falling to her knees. "Forgive me. I… I don't know what came over…" The sword burned her. "I don't know what came over me." She suddenly felt very weak and Calmakil fell from her hand.  
  
"Let me help you, My Lady," said the guard quietly as Merethiel draped a blanket over Elenath's shoulders. He bent and gently picked the Princess up in his arms, tenderly laying her back in her bed and placing Calmakil within her reach.  
  
*If I cannot kill her,* thought Dimnarion, *Then perhaps I can woo her, gain her trust… teach her a lesson or two, and then…* His mouth curved into a sweet smile. "May the Valar grant your quick recovery." Then, decorously, he bowed out of the room.  
  
Elenath felt better as soon as he left. "What have I done?" she asked her grandfather. "I do not understand."  
  
"Perhaps," he said, "it was as he said and the poison still affects you. However, such things have been known to happen with a sword bearer. Calmakil makes one… very sensitive to evil. Dimnarion will be watched closely for the remainder of his time here."  
  
"Grandfather, that is not necessary. He has done nothing to deserve such-"  
  
"Just a precaution, My Dear. Now you must rest. Tomorrow we will celebrate this miracle!" 


	10. Getting Ready

LEGOLAS FAN FICTION  
  
TITLE: Where Love May Lead  
  
AUTHOR: Emily Kinsman  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily Kinsman (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
SUMMARY: Prequel to Elenath. Legolas travels to Rivendell to meet his betrothed, but things do not work out as smoothly as his father and Lord Elrond had wished.  
  
10.  
  
"Blue," said Merethiel. "Definitely the blue one."  
  
"Are you sure?" Elenath held the gown up to herself. "The green one seems… I don't know… more formal." She knew nothing of such things, preferring usually to dress in her leggings and tunic and think nothing more of it.  
  
"The blue one matches your eyes."  
  
"Oh," said the princess. "Very well, then. The blue one." She looked at herself in the mirror, regarded her long, almost wild curls, and smiled to herself. Her dear friend Gandalf always told her that she had the hair of a hobbit – most unusual for an Elf. The Wizard never was one to keep his opinions silent, especially when it came to anything having to do with hobbits. Yet, when she took a second look at herself with that hobbit hair falling dark and lustrous far past her bare shoulders, she frowned. "What about my hair?"  
  
"What about it?" asked her cousin. "It's lovely just as it is."  
  
"But it looks so…"  
  
"Feminine?"  
  
Elenath shrugged. "Yes."  
  
Merethiel laughed and whispered conspiratorially in her ear, "That is a good thing when one is trying to capture the heart of the Prince of Mirkwood."  
  
Color rose instantly to the princess' face. "I am not! He is to be your husband, Merethiel! Do you think me so unfaithful as to take him from you? He is –"  
  
"Perfect for you," she interrupted. "I saw the way you looked at each other in Grandfather's throne room, and I know the beginnings of love when I see it. I'll not interfere with that, mark my words. Grandfather can yell and scream all he likes. I care not."  
  
"But I thought that you were going to give him a chance!"  
  
Merethiel shook her head and helped Elenath into the celestial blue empire gown they had chosen. "What chance can I give him when I can tell it is you he desires? And that suits me just fine. I still do not want to leave Rivendell!"  
  
"But, Merethiel, what chance can I give him? Grandfather has all but forbidden it."  
  
"You must still be recovering from the grimleaf, Elenath! What's gotten into you? I of all people should not need to remind you that while I was being a perfect lady and following every whim and command of our grandfather, you were out learning the arts of war – though he expressly forbade it."  
  
She sighed, regarding her cousin with a great deal of respect. It seemed like Merethiel had learned to stand up for herself over night. "This is different."  
  
"How?" asked Merethiel. "How is this different?"  
  
"A warrior is who I am. It is my life."  
  
"But does not love hold as great a place in life as one's vocation?"  
  
Elenath sighed. "I suppose so. But still I am loath to rile Grandfather further than he already is on this matter." She took Merethiel's hands. "Give Legolas more time, I beseech you. He may woo you yet."  
  
Merethiel shrugged. "I am too happy that you are alive to argue, so it will be as you wish. One month should be sufficient. Perhaps by then Grandfather – and you - will have come to your senses. Are you sure you feel well?"  
  
"Just a little tired," she replied, picking up her delicate golden and sapphire circlet from her dresser and placing it on her head.  
  
Merethiel lifted it off again and smoothed Elenath's hair before replacing it. "There. Now you look perfect."  
  
***  
  
Legolas could not believe his ears as he walked among the nobles of Rivendell.  
  
"I escorted her last time," said one, "and I'll not do it again! It is as if I am dancing with my brother."  
  
Dancing with your brother? Legolas thought of the Princess' feminine curves and fair face, and the musical sound of her laughter. A brother she most certainly was not.  
  
"Right you are," said another. "Do not misunderstand. She is a skilled warrior and I would rather have her than anyone next to me in battle. And she can be lovely, I suppose, when she tries…"  
  
When she tries! He almost said something then, for the Prince of Mirkwood had been entranced by her beauty the first moment he had seen her. What was wrong with these Elves? Were they blind?  
  
"But it seems not very romantic to court one with whom you did battle on the practice field only hours before."  
  
The prince sighed. Strength. Elenath had strength; not like most of the other she-Elves who were like delicate flowers: lovely yet easily broken. He could not erase the memory of her standing in her chemise, Calmakil in hand. A more perfectly shaped, smoothly muscled body he could not begin to imagine. She exuded power and confidence, and it had taken every ounce of his self-control to tear his eyes from her.  
  
"I wonder who Lord Elrond will choose this time?" The question seemed to echo among them, their voices full of trepidation.  
  
"Would that he would consider a visiting stranger!" said a familiar voice.  
  
Legolas looked up in surprise to find that the voice belonged to his bodyguard, Dimnarion. Eyebrows arching, the prince spoke. "Do you desire to escort the Princess, my friend?"  
  
The guard nodded respectfully. "Surely you cannot blame me, Your Highness. She intrigues me. I am quickly realizing that the harsh words I spoke at Council about her were completely wrong."  
  
Legolas could see no harm in it. Dimnarion had proven a faithful guard since he had arrived in Mirkwood two hundred years before, critically wounded and having no memory of who he was. "I shall see if it can be arranged, though Elrond is wary of you. Perhaps he will give you his permission."  
  
The prince could not see the scheming glare in Dimnarion's emerald eyes as he turned away. "Your Highness, I would be happy for just one dance, but if Lord Elrond gives his blessing to allow me to escort her, I will be elated." 


	11. One Night

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
11.  
  
"Is he of noble blood?"  
  
Of course Elrond would ask this. Legolas should have been prepared for it, but he had not been thinking. "Dimnarion remembers not his lineage. Thus I cannot truthfully answer your question."  
  
"Prince Legolas, Elenath sits in direct line to the throne of Rivendell, though there are four who would precede her by her own request. She is of the age to consider marriage, but she must find an appropriate mate – one of high rank and royal bearing. One who would be willing to join her here at Rivendell."  
  
"I understand," said the prince, beginning to back away with his head bowed slightly.  
  
"Dimnarion is of high rank, is he not?" Elrond stopped him. "To be the prince's body guard, he must have won your father's favor…"  
  
"Of course, my lord. In Mirkwood, he is considered a Noble. He has fought bravely alongside our warriors in many a battle and has an entire battalion of Elves beneath him."  
  
For a moment, Elrond did not speak. He thought. How many years had he searched for a suitable husband for Elenath with no fruit for all of his efforts? His own nobles were far too familiar with her, treating her as a sister, or worse, as a fellow warrior. Others were intimidated by her powerful presence. But Dimnarion… that Elf had a powerful presence of his own. Maybe… just maybe…. "He knows how to behave in the presence of a Lady?"  
  
"Indeed, Lord Elrond! You need not insult him. Did you not see how he bore himself when your granddaughter threatened his very life?"  
  
Ah, yes. There was that matter. Had it been an after-effect of the poison or the guidance of Calmakil that prompted Elenath to draw her Sword on him? Elrond thoughtfully stroked his chin and regarded Legolas with a judicious gaze. "That I did. But I also heard him threaten her at the Council of the Sword, refusing to offer his support."  
  
"And for that I must humbly apologize, my lord." Dimnarion entered the room, bowing as he neared. "Please. I spoke hastily at the council. And I ask not for her hand; only for this one night to be by her side."  
  
Elrond's eyebrows shot up at these words. "Indeed!" Something about this Elf, though he was seemingly kind and well intentioned, rang a false note in his heart. However, he could not place it. "Tell me, Dimnarion, why the sudden interest in my granddaughter?"  
  
"She is lovely to behold, my lord, and it has been many long years since I spent any time in the company of such a creature." Earnestly, he looked into Elrond's eyes. "My heart is drawn to her. For what reason I know not."  
  
"Very well," said Elrond at last. "Very well. But you shall not take her from my sight."  
  
Nodding, the warrior smiled warmly. "It shall be as you say. Thank you." Then turning away, he allowed the smile to melt into a wicked grin. Of course the princess would not be able to resist his charms. Had any female of any race ever been able to do so? No. They melted like putty in his arms. And this, he knew, would be the sweetest conquest of them all.  
  
***  
  
Elenath had to admit that the Elf who arrived at her chamber door to escort her to the feast was handsome; more than handsome, perhaps. His thick, straight hair hung down upon his broad shoulders, and his eyes seemed to reflect the green of the forest. He was richly dressed, though no crown graced his head, and he greeted her with a bouquet of wildflowers, "Though they are not half so lovely as you, my lady."  
  
She looked up at him, into those green eyes and smiled. "My grandfather never ceases to surprise me. I had wondered who he would send this night." In an uncharacteristically shy gesture, she looked away for a moment, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I… I suppose I owe you an apology, Dimnarion, for last night."  
  
Merriment shown in his eyes and he laughed. "No apology is necessary. You were not yourself, Princess. And it is not often that one is held at sword point by a beautiful lady. If I had not feared for my life, I might have quite enjoyed it."  
  
Taking the flowers from him, she turned away and placed them in a vase. "You are too kind, my lord."  
  
"Come," he said softly, "Your grandfather awaits."  
  
And so it went throughout the night. Dimnarion was the perfect gentleman, even when Elenath was not so much the perfect lady. He laughed with her as she made mischief with Rivendell's warriors and helped her to hide the evidence from her grandfather. Dance after dance, he led her gently across the floor, never daring to overstep his bounds, and when she tired, he sat with her and told his favorite tales of Mirkwood.  
  
By the end of the evening, it seemed, he had gained her trust, and as he bid her good night at the doors of the great hall, she stood on tiptoe to lightly kiss his cheek. "Thank you, Dimnarion. I had a lovely time."  
  
"It is I who should thank you, my lady. It was an honor to escort you."  
  
She could only smile at him and turn away, confusion rising in her as she retreated to her chambers. He was everything she had ever hoped for in a mate. Why, then, did her heart warn her to be cautious? And why did the Sword burn her each time he came near? These questions were almost as confusing as the feelings she had each time the Prince of Mirkwood had come near to her. Shaking her head, she sat down and looked out into the Wood into the dark. "I thought I was beyond all this," she said to no one in particular. "But apparently I am not." 


	12. I Think I'll Go for a Walk...

LEGOLAS FAN FICTION  
  
TITLE: Where Love May Lead  
  
AUTHOR: Emily Kinsman  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily Kinsman (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
SUMMARY: Prequel to Elenath. Legolas travels to Rivendell to meet his betrothed, but things do not work out as smoothly as his father and Lord Elrond had wished.  
  
12.  
  
Legolas bid Merethiel good night and retreated in silence to his chambers. The Lady was a vision; he could not deny that. And, she was gentle and kind, displaying perfect Court manners – surprising after their rather thorny first meeting. He had been a little worried at that point, but now he was even more so. She was perfect in every way as far as his father was concerned – Thranduil would adore her. Why, then, did Legolas not? His heart felt nothing special when he gazed upon his future wife and this greatly distressed him.  
  
"Sacrifices," he stated to the empty room. "Father always said that I would have to make sacrifices for my kingdom." But was this one of them? Was it his lot in life to marry for the sake of political alliance, forsaking his dream of true love? Frustration welled in his heart, for that seemed far too great a price to pay.  
  
What of Elenath? She seemed to be free from such weighty expectations. Legolas had barely been able to keep his eyes off of her as she laughed and danced with Dimnarion. It had been as if she had not a single worry in all the world.  
  
And then she had danced with Legolas. He had shared one dance - one magnificent dance with the princess, and as soon as it had ended, his arms had ached at her absence and his lips had burned with words left unspoken. Unspoken because his voice had left him the moment he looked into her eyes.  
  
At the end of the night, he had watched as she kissed Dimnarion. Legolas sighed, reminding himself that it had been a chaste kiss, such as a sister would give to her brother. Still, the sight of it had made his heart constrict painfully in his chest. Why could he not feel this way for fair Merethiel? Why must his heart rebel against his father's wishes?  
  
Still, for all of his good intentions he could not tear his mind away from the memory of Princess Elenath dressed all in blue silk. She had shimmered in the moonlight; her wondrous sapphire eyes gazing into his as they danced. Could he possibly hope that she felt the same attraction for him as he felt for her?  
  
"Enough!" he said to himself. "Enough of these thoughts. I should rest now." But he knew that he was far too agitated for that and decided that a walk might calm him.  
  
***  
  
Elenath paced back and forth in her chambers, thinking back over the evening – particularly about the one dance she had shared with Prince Legolas. He had treated her with such gentility that she had not known how to react. As ridiculous as it sounded for a princess to say, he had made her feel truly special for the first time in her life. They had spoken few words as they danced, but the conversation they did have was lovely and light, and it seemed each time she said something he listened as if her voice was beautiful music.  
  
Legolas was unlike the Nobles of Rivendell who treated her as a comrade-in- arms, and when he had kissed her hand at the end of their dance, she could feel the blush rising to her cheeks. Shaking her head, she remembered the words she had said then. "You needn't treat me so, Prince Legolas."  
  
The bewildered prince had gazed for a long moment into her eyes, as if considering the possibility of kissing her elsewhere. "You are like a willow in springtime – strong and supple, yet possessing such beauty that it brings tears to the eyes of Elves."  
  
She had regarded him with wide eyes at that, and he had continued, explaining himself.  
  
"You are a strong warrior, brave in battle and skilled with the Sword. But you are also a lady and a Princess, and in my presence you shall be treated as such, Vanimaer Beautiful One."  
  
Vanimaer. She sighed. No one, save her grandfather, mother, and father had ever called her that.  
  
"Elenath?"  
  
The princess' thoughts crashed back into the present, and she turned in surprise to see her cousin standing there in silken robe, ready for bed. "Merethiel! You startled me."  
  
The Lady laughed. "It was not intentional…. You are still dressed?"  
  
Looking down at herself, the princess stuttered. "Well… y-yes, I suppose that I am…."  
  
Merethiel's eyebrows arched. "Since when do you not come racing back from a Royal Feast to change into more comfortable attire? Are you well?"  
  
"Well, I… you know… I'm not so sure, Merethiel. I… suppose I am rather tired… rather tired and confused." She nodded. "Yes. Tired and confused."  
  
"You do not sound yourself, Elenath. Shall I call for Grandfather?"  
  
"No! No… I fear he will only make things worse." She shook her head. "Did you have a nice evening with your prince, Cousin?"  
  
The Lady shrugged. "He was kind and dances well enough. I keep telling myself that I should be able to fall in love with him, but my heart will not comply."  
  
"Give it time."  
  
She nodded. "I will, but only because you asked me to. And what about you? You seemed to get along well with Dimnarion."  
  
Elenath could not help but blush a little. "Dimnarion. It is as you say with Legolas. Only it is my body that thinks it should love the Elf, not my mind. And my heart remains aloof. I know not what to do; only that when he held me in my arms I felt weak in the knees." She paused and wrinkled her nose. "I do not like the sensation."  
  
Merethiel's mirthful laughter filled the room. "Poor Elenath! Legolas' body guard is … well, he is the perfect physical specimen of a male Elf. Of course you feel weak in the knees when you dance with him. I would too – he's so tall – and those broad shoulders. Mmmm – he's perfect!" She checked herself and blushed, quickly adding, "Not that the Prince of Mirkwood is any less handsome…. Dimnarion just has that…rough warrior look to him. Now let me help you get ready for bed. You've had a long day."  
  
The princess shook her head. "No… I have too many thoughts clouding my mind to be able to rest properly. I think I will take a walk."  
  
"Dressed like that?"  
  
She shrugged. "Why not?"  
  
"Suit yourself, Elenath. And please, do not worry yourself so much. Somehow this will all work out." Merethiel paused and smiled a little. "After all, even Grandfather has been known to say, 'We can only go where love may lead.'"  
  
"Unless our overprotective Grandfather prohibits us from doing so," sighed Elenath a few minutes later as she stepped into the lush Wood of Rivendell and allowed the comfort of the familiar trees and waterfalls to surround her. "Or unless we are too frightened to tread where love may lead…" 


	13. The Song of the Trees

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
13.  
  
"It will only be a matter of time," said Dimnarion to himself. He had felt the tremble of Elenath's body as he held her near in those abominable Elven dances. She, just like every other female he had seduced, found him irresistible. He was confident that he could have had her in his bed this very night had he chosen to do so. But no. This was far too important to botch with his carnal desires. This one was strong-willed and, it seemed, virtuous as well. For one night he might have had her – yes. But then who know what might happen? She would regret and Elrond would have his head. No. It was too soon now, but his time was coming. And when it did come, he would take what he wanted – with or without her permission.  
  
He chuckled darkly and pulled a leather pouch from its hiding place beneath the clothing in his dresser. Grimleaf – just the thing to slip into her food and drink to keep her weak enough that she would not be able to fight back so much.  
  
"My thanks to you, Lady Galadriel," he murmured, tossing the pouch up into the air and then catching it.  
  
***  
  
An early spring chill filled the night air as Elenath wondered the paths of Rivendell. Here she paused to listen to the songs of the newly awakened trees, and there she tarried to gaze heavenward at the glittering stars. Presently, the trees drew her into their song once more and her sweet voice lifted to join them.  
  
"O lovers fair beneath our boughs  
  
Think not of worldly sorrow  
  
But feed your hearts with passion sweet  
  
Fear not your hearts to follow  
  
Away the sun and silver moon  
  
May darkness hide you safely  
  
As love's first kiss does grace your lips  
  
And seal your fate completely."  
  
She wondered, as she walked for whom the trees sang, for many lovers were sure to be afoot this night. It was always so after a Royal banquet.  
  
Not wishing to encounter any such couples, Elenath left the path, careful not to snag her gown in the dense underbrush. For a long while she walked along, and before she even realized where she was going, found herself at the edge of a glassy pond – its surface broken only by the long stream of water pouring down from a rock face on its western end. This was her favorite place – a place that no one else knew about. Of course she would come here without thinking. Eagerly, she leapt from rock to rock, her footfalls utterly silent in the moonlight. Droplets from the waterfall clung to her skin and chilled her slightly, but it mattered not.  
  
Soon, her feet were upon the narrow path carved into the rock face and she ducked behind the waterfall, smiling as she heard the cascading water laugh its way down the rocks. Looking out at the beauty of her world at nighttime, she stepped backward into the hidden cave there and bumped into something. Something warm and soft with strong arms that reached out to steady her. The gentle scent of sandalwood and sage washed over her, and she knew at once who she had run into. Still, she was so startled that his name came out as a terrified shriek.  
  
"Prince Legolas!" She spun to face the wide-eyed Elf and stepped backward, losing her footing on the edge of the rock and grasping wildly at the air in a desperate attempt to stop herself from falling into the cold water below.  
  
Legolas gasped, reaching out to her, catching one flailing hand with his own and reaching franticly around her waist with the other. Finally achieving a firm grip, he pulled her into the safety of his embrace. "Forgive me," he said, holding her close until she regained her footing. "I did not intend to frighten you."  
  
She trembled slightly in his arms as she recovered from the close call and then looked up into his eyes, stepping away. "I… I didn't expect to find anyone here…. Thank you for catching me."  
  
He said nothing. Indeed, it seemed that he had lost his ability to speak as he gazed at her, his eyes never straying from her lovely face.  
  
"You came here seeking solitude," she said softly, moving as if to leave. "Forgive me for disturbing you."  
  
She was about to duck back out of the cave when she felt the warmth of his hand closing around her own.  
  
"Please," he said, finding his voice at last. "Please do not leave, Princess. Actually… the trees told me that I might find you here."  
  
"The trees!"  
  
He nodded. "They know much more than most would imagine."  
  
"And why, Prince Legolas, did you seek to find me?"  
  
For that he had no answer. He paused, looking at the smooth rock floor of the cave. "I don't know," he finally said, "except that my heart leaps each time that I see you, and I know not what to do about it." 


	14. When the Laurel Blooms

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
  
  
14.  
  
Elenath regarded Legolas for a long moment before she finally forced herself to speak words that she did not wish to say. "You are betrothed to my cousin. I cannot be here with you." Turning to leave again, she was stopped short by the sincere tone of his voice.  
  
"You would not say such a thing if you did not share my feelings at least a little. And can you tell me truthfully that Merethiel desires to be my wife?"  
  
She did not turn to face him for fear that she would lose her resolve. "Give her time, Legolas. Please."  
  
He sighed. "How much time, Lirimaer Lovely One? She is deserving of a husband who adores her, not one who feels nothing when he looks at her."  
  
Finally, unable to take it anymore, she turned to face him and placed a hand comfortingly on his shoulder as their eyes met once again. "Give yourself time, Prince Legolas. At least until the laurel blooms."  
  
"A month." His voice was quiet; respectful.  
  
"Yes, if the weather is fair."  
  
"And what of your feelings, Elenath? Has my heart any hope at all?"  
  
His brow was furrowed, and his eyes full of longing such that Elenath could hardly contain herself from confessing how she felt about him. Yet, it was so absurd. She hardly knew this Elf, and she already had such strong feelings for him. "There is always hope, Your Highness." She touched his chest, just above his heart for a brief moment before pulling it away. "But I shall say nothing more until the laurel blooms."  
  
"You will meet me here at that time?"  
  
"I will."  
  
The prince nodded slowly. "Then it shall be as you wish, my lady."  
  
When she left the cave and disappeared silently into the night, Legolas slipped down onto the cold stone floor and did not move for many hours. The emptiness in his heart that her absence caused threatened to engulf him, and it was only the beauty of the first light of morning that strengthened him enough to rise and return to the house of Elrond.  
  
Elenath did not fare much better, wondering aimlessly through the Wood deep in thought until her father found her only an hour before daybreak. He could tell by the far away gaze in her eyes that something was the matter; indeed that something was wonderfully the matter.  
  
"Surely it is not Dimnarion," Airedolas said aloud, linking arms with his daughter and guiding her gently back toward Elrond's palace.  
  
"No, Father," she replied with a giggle.  
  
"Well, you have met someone. I can tell. Who is it?" His tone was gentle, joyful even. He had waited almost a thousand years for his daughter to take interest in someone.  
  
"How do you know so much?"  
  
"I'm your father," he said simply. "I know everything."  
  
She laughed again and then squeezed his hand as the merriment faded rapidly from her face. "It is as you say, father. I have met someone. But I am so confused… and Grandfather would never approve."  
  
"Do not be so sure of that. The old Elf is getting desperate, you know. I cannot believe he let Dimnarion escort you to the banquet."  
  
"He would not approve," she repeated. "Not at all." Her voice was not so strong now, as if she were either about to laugh or to cry. "Sometimes I hate being who I am."  
  
"Surely it is not so bad, daughter," said Airedolas, stopping in the path and turning to face her. "Tell me, then. Who is it?"  
  
Elenath hardly dared to look into her father's eyes. She knew that she could trust him, but was reluctant to say it out loud for that would mean that she had accepted it herself. "I think I am falling in love," she whispered, "with the Prince of Mirkwood." With her confession came two crystalline tears that fell slowly down her face until her father wiped them away gently.  
  
"Oh, my daughter. I wish for your sake that it wasn't true, for he is promised to your cousin-"  
  
"Who does not love him; nor does he love her," she sobbed quietly. "Ada Dad, it just isn't fair. How much stronger would the union between Rivendell and Mirkwood be if I became Legolas' wife? Yet Grandfather can think of nothing but keeping me caged here like some wild animal. Why?"  
  
"He is afraid to lose you, Elenath. Sweetheart, you hardly know this prince. It is not like you to become so emotional."  
  
"I told you," she sniffed. "I told you that I am confused, Ada. I don't understand it, but when I am with him, I feel… complete."  
  
"I felt the same with your mother," he murmured. "I will speak to Elrond about this. Worry not, Elenath, if you and Legolas have found happiness, then I will find a way to make it work. I promise."  
  
"He may still marry Merethiel," she said quietly.  
  
Airedolas gazed steadily into his daughter's eyes for a long moment. "I doubt that very much, for the look in your eyes is familiar to me. Your heart has found its home." 


	15. Dimnarion's Special-tea ;)

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
***A/N*** Sorry guys! I would have posted this last night but I had internet problems! All worked out now :).  
  
15.  
  
Dimnarion watched from his chambers as Elenath returned from her late-night sojourn on her father's arm. "Almost time for breakfast, Princess," he chuckled, pouring fresh spring water into a goblet and beginning to chant over it. Before long it began to steam, and he added a tiny mesh bag of grimleaf. For over an hour he let it steep, releasing its tasteless, scentless poison into the pure water as he chanted to keep the concoction hot.  
  
Bear the Sword she may, he thought, but after a few mornings of this, she'll not even be able to lift it. But I will. He laughed deviously. I will. And I will rid Middle Earth of both menaces – Princess Elenath and her wretched Sword.  
  
Hearing the Elves gathering in the great hall for breakfast, he removed the grimleaf and discarded it, replacing it with a teabag and working his magic to make the water hot once more.  
  
***  
  
Elenath did not realize how hungry she was until she smelled the scent of food wafting up from the kitchens. Rapidly she bathed and changed into tunic and leggings and hurried down the stairway, strapping on Calmakil as she went. Entering the Hall, she was greeted at once by a dozen of her grandfather's guards who acted as if they had not seen her in fifty years.  
  
"Will you be joining us in practice today, El?" they asked.  
  
"Of course! Unless Grandfather objects."  
  
Eagerly, she sat down next to her mother and father and gratefully accepted the food that the servants placed in front of her – light, fluffy cakes heaped with strawberries and cream.  
  
"You look well this morning," said Llilwen, her mother, with a smile.  
  
"She should," said Airedolas, "after her long and eventful night."  
  
Her parents looked at each other and laughed like children who were keeping secrets.  
  
Elenath blushed despite herself and said quietly. "I suppose I should be grateful that you both approve."  
  
"Worry not, Daughter," said Llilwen, "Your secret is safe with us."  
  
Presently, Dimnarion approached the table with two cups of steaming tea, one of which he gently placed before Elenath. "Good morning, Princess."  
  
Returning his greeting, she looked curiously at the goblet.  
  
"It is a special tea," he said. "We drink it in Mirkwood when the weather grows cool, as it is this morning. I thought that you might like to try it."  
  
The princess smiled as her parents became lost in their own conversation. "Thank you, Dimnarion. That's very nice of you."  
  
He watched her with glittering eyes as she lifted the goblet and drank slowly, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the rich flavor and let the warmth of the beverage seep through her body.  
  
"You like it!" he smiled broadly.  
  
Putting the cup aside, she nodded. "Indeed. I shall have to learn how it is made. Will you be joining us for training this morning?"  
  
A look of mock humility spread across his features. "May I?"  
  
"Of course! It would be an honor to see if you fight as well as you dance." She grinned at him and quickly downed the rest of the tea as he chuckled.  
  
"And I should like to know the same about you, Dear Elenath!"  
  
***  
  
The day became warmer as the sun climbed upward over the treetops of Rivendell and Elenath took her place among the warriors of her realm. Among them stood Legolas with his bow, casting occasional glances at the princess; his young page Raion who looked about with an expression akin to incredulity; and his body guard Dimnarion, his straight-bladed sword already drawn and ready. Before long, the peaceful forest was filled with the sounds of warfare as the warriors paired off to spar.  
  
Legolas watched Elenath with nothing short of amazement. She sparred with Dimnarion first and, though the battle was fierce, came out on top due to a minor slip-up by her opponent. Then she faced off with one of her comrades from Rivendell and beat him as well. By the end of the match, however, she was swaying on her feet and out of breath. When Raion approached her tentatively for a match, she was forced to decline as all of the color drained from her face and she sat down unsteadily upon a rock. Dimnarion was by her side in an instant.  
  
"My Lady, are you well?"  
  
She looked up at him and shuddered as her vision blurred slightly. "I… I'll be fine. Just… let me rest for a moment." Calmakil pulsed visibly at her side, and when she touched the Sword, she cried out in pain, for it burned her like fire.  
  
"Elenath?"  
  
"Leave me," she whispered desperately. "Stay away. Please, Dimnarion. Your presence hurts me." suddenly her stomach flip-flopped and she leaned over the rock, losing her breakfast into the bushes.  
  
***  
  
"Too much too soon," declared Elrond after examining his granddaughter. "Elenath, you need to rest. The poison has not yet worked itself out of your system."  
  
"But Grandfather, I feel fine now!"  
  
"I will hear no more, Elenath. To bed with you until I say otherwise."  
  
"But-"  
  
One stern look silenced her and she stalked away to her chambers and sunk sullenly into bed. She wasn't sick. She wasn't even tired, so she took up Calmakil and turned it over and over in her hands. "Are you trying to tell me something?" she asked it. "Why do you dislike Dimnarion so much?"  
  
At the sound of his name, the Blade sent out a short burst of fire and Elenath gasped, dropping it onto her lap. "Is it just that you dislike me? Have you chosen wrong?"  
  
The Sword did nothing, and she began to wonder if she was imagining things. Surely the famed Calmakil would not hurt the very bearer it chose. Still, she had to know. Tentatively, she took the Blade in hand and spoke clearly. "Merethiel." Nothing. "Elrond." A vague, comforting warmth. "Dimnarion." She gasped again as the Sword left welts this time.  
  
Calmakil was definitely trying to tell her something. But she still did not understand. "He has been nothing but nice to me on this visit," she sighed. "How can I tell him to stay away from me?"  
  
"Yet you must." The voice was familiar, but Elenath did not dare to hope it belonged to who she thought it did. She hardly believed her eyes when she looked up to see Gandalf the Gray standing in the doorway of her chambers. 


	16. Mithrandir

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
16.  
  
"Gandalf!" cried Elenath as she leapt out of bed and threw herself at the old Wizard in a joyful hug. He leaned on a gnarled staff and was robed in gray, his long hair and scraggly beard hanging down, it seemed, almost to his knees.  
  
He chuckled to himself as he pulled her near. "My dear, I hope that you never become to old or too wise to greet your old godfather in such a way."  
  
"Why are you here?" she asked, "Will you stay long?"  
  
"Well," he replied, "I heard a rumor that the young princess of Rivendell was near death. Apparently those rumors were false, though it is strange to see you abed at this hour."  
  
"That is Grandfather's doing," she said. "He is far too protective. I feel fine."  
  
"Poisoned by grimleaf two days ago and you feel fine?" Gandalf raised one eyebrow and regarded her quizzically. "That is quite extraordinary."  
  
She told him what had happened and of her miraculous recovery as she settled herself back into bed. Then for a long while she listened to tales of where he had been and whom he had seen. She asked eagerly after the hobbits and then finally asked, "What do you know of Dimnarion of Mirkwood?"  
  
"The prince's body guard?" Gandalf thought for a moment. "He is a mystery to me, just as he is to the Elves of that realm. But, Elenath, if the Sword burns you when you speak of him or when he comes near, then you should be wary. Calmakil does not lie."  
  
She sighed. "But neither can I shun someone who has been only kind to me these past few days. Dimnarion has been thoughtful and charming, even when I have not been."  
  
"You are far too trusting," he said. "Far too trusting. Now…" he bent near to kiss her forehead. "I must have a word with Lord Elrond if it is well with you."  
  
***  
  
"Here!" exclaimed Elrond, "In my own realm – my own protected kingdom! An Elf poisoned my granddaughter – right here! Am I so powerless that evil may enter Rivendell unnoticed, Mithrandir*?"  
  
The Wizard sighed and leaned on his staff. "Calm yourself, Elrond. I am quite sure that a good many things go unnoticed by you in Rivendell. You cannot be all-knowing."  
  
"But surely I should have seen such an evil as this."  
  
"The darkest evil is often difficult to detect. Even I sense nothing but the peaceful serenity of your realm. Yet your granddaughter is strangely agitated, and that cannot be ignored. She is the Sword bearer."  
  
***  
  
Dimnarion paced back and forth in his chambers. Who ever heard of an Elf getting sick? All of that poison – wasted. One thing was for sure, that bush would be dead by nightfall.  
  
She was infuriating, that princess! She should be dead by now by the hand of the Orcs. At the very least she should be deathly ill! What was he doing wrong? Dimnarion sat down on his bed to think. And then he began to brew another cup of the deadly tea.  
  
***  
  
"Your Highness?"  
  
Elenath sat up in bed to search for the source of the timid voice and found it in the Elf Raion who stood nervously in the doorway of her chambers. The Elf was young - only about two hundred years old – and was just beginning his training as a warrior. His bright eyes peered curiously but politely at her and a smile just barely tugged at the corners of his mouth. Lying back, she bade him come near. "Yes, Raion?"  
  
"I bring a message from Dimnarion." He handed her a small scroll tied with twine, and she unrolled it.  
  
1 My Lady ~  
  
I pray that I have not offended you in any way, for my heart aches at the thought of being barred from your presence as you suggested this afternoon. Please accept my apologies for any foul deed or unrighteous act I have committed, Princess. Know that I am ever your servant and I had hoped to escort you to many more banquets. If that is not possible, will you at least permit me to share with you an occasional cup of tea? I have one at the ready for you now. You need only call.  
  
~Dimnarion  
  
She sighed, recalling how cruel she had been on the practice field that morning, telling him to get away from her. And what foul or unrighteous act had he committed? None! Still Gandalf had advised her well on many other matters. Why should this be any different?  
  
"Have you a response for me, Your Highness?" asked Raion.  
  
"Yes," she answered. "Tell him to come and we shall have tea." After all, what harm could come to her in the very house of her grandfather?  
  
***  
  
Something was not right here. Legolas could sense it in his innermost being. Elves did not fall ill as Elenath had that afternoon, poison or no poison. He fretted over this, his heart breaking at the thought of her suffering. "Whoever has done this," he said to himself, "will pay and pay dearly."  
  
"You are worried about the princess."  
  
Legolas leapt to his feet. "Lady Merethiel!"  
  
"I am worried about her as well, Prince Legolas." She sighed. "What happened today I know not, yet it fills my heart with dread. Who would want to hurt her?"  
  
He had no answer for her and only shook his head and looked away. "Whoever it is, mark my words, will wish he was never born."  
  
"You care very deeply for her, don't you?" she asked him quietly.  
  
"Alas, I cannot say, Lady. For I promised her I would not until the laurel blooms and I do not wish to displease you. You and I are to be married ere the end of autumn."  
  
She gently slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. "It would not displease me, my lord. In fact my heart would leap with joy to see the two of you happily wed."  
  
*Mithrandir – Gandalf's Elvish name 


	17. Strange Whisperings

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily Kinsman (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
17.  
  
"You want to see me wed to your cousin?" Legolas asked Merethiel. He was puzzled. "Why?"  
  
"Because you are the only Elf she has ever shown any true romantic interest in."  
  
"That cannot be true! What about Dimnarion?"  
  
"Dimnarion?" The Lady shook her head, "He is fair to look upon. That is a fact that even she would not argue. However, her heart feels nothing for him aside from friendship."  
  
Legolas could not stop a small grin from spreading across his features. "Does her heart… perhaps… feel something more than friendship for me?"  
  
"That is for her to tell; not I." Merethiel giggled and began to walk down a path into the dusky wood.  
  
The Prince followed. "My only wish is that I could see her now."  
  
Merethiel halted in her tracks and turned to face him. "You can." She grinned. "Or rather we can. You and I together. Come. Follow me."  
  
***  
  
"This should warm you nicely," said Dimnarion softly as he handed Elenath the goblet of hot tea, allowing his fingers to linger against hers for a moment longer than necessary.  
  
"Thank you, my lord." She delighted in the rich flavor of the tea once again, absorbing its warmth in the evening chill. More than anything, she wanted to relax; to believe that the Prince's bodyguard was an honorable Elf. Yet, she could not help but notice the fact that Calmakil was pulsing angrily from its place on her wall. She closed her eyes for a moment, and to her surprise, felt the warmth of her guest's gentle hand against her cheek.  
  
"How do you feel?" he asked, his eyes full of concern.  
  
"Fine," she answered, her own hand covering his calmly and pulling it away from her face. She smiled at him reassuringly. "I do not understand why Grandfather sent me to bed." Sitting up, she began to work at the clasp that held her hair captive with both hands.  
  
Dimnarion watched her, adoration bright in his eyes. "Lord Elrond is wise to protect his granddaughter so. Grimleaf is a strange poison. For hours it may lay dormant. Then, suddenly, it rears its ugly head."  
  
"Like this afternoon." She sighed.  
  
"Yes, Dear One. Like this afternoon."  
  
She let her hands drop to her lap and shook her head. "Dimnarion, forgive me for my harsh words this afternoon. I –"  
  
"Think nothing of it," he said. "Please, Princess."  
  
"But you were only trying to help and-"  
  
"Shhh." He gently placed a finger over her lips and smiled. "The Sword is new to you. It will take time to become used to its… moods, if you will."  
  
"Thank you for understanding," she said, reaching up again to the clasp and sighing in frustration when it would not budge. "Drat that silly handmaiden. What did she do, tie my hair in a knot?"  
  
Dimnarion's deep, rumbling laugh echoed through her chambers. "Here, Love. Let me help you." He sat next to her on the bed and deftly reached around her neck with both arms.  
  
He leaned so near that she could feel the warmth of his skin and could hear his breath in her ear as he fumbled with the clasp. The clean scent of the earth after a rainstorm surrounded her and she sighed, relaxing forward, resting her head momentarily on his shoulder. It was only when her hair fell free, down about her shoulders and to her waist that she came back to herself and realized he was speaking strange words to her – words of some language she had never heard.  
  
"Ixanliz chagla se metzlach me zet. Ghlovleta xiantikle me lach…"  
  
His words seemed to wrap around her, paralyzing her from the inside out and she was relieved when he stopped and gazed deeply into her eyes. "Like black silk," he whispered, running his fingers through her long tresses. "So beautiful… and your eyes like fathomless pools… Nay… I cannot help myself, fool that I am." With that, his mouth closed upon hers with unbridled passion, his hands caressing her face, her neck, her arms so gently…  
  
Elenath's body responded with pliable warmth, but inside she was terrified. She wanted to push him away and to call for help, but she could not. It was as if she was trapped within herself.  
  
After a long moment, he stopped and pulled away with great reluctance, whispering as he went, "Se metzlach; me lach, Elenath… Forgive me. I could not help myself."  
  
She still could not speak as he helped her to lay back against her pillows, kissed her forehead on the very spot that Gandalf had, and turned to leave. He got as far as the doorway before she found her voice at last.  
  
"Dimnarion."  
  
"Yes, my lady?"  
  
She sat up unsteadily. "Never – never – kiss me without my permission. Is that clear?" The last three words were spoken with quite a bit of force.  
  
He grinned darkly in the doorway. "Spoken like a true princess," he laughed. "But soon you will crave my kisses, mark my words. Good night, Elenath. Xanchaldi kantilach se zar!" He waved a hand and was gone.  
  
A wave of nausea hit her and she fell back again, curling into a ball and clutching her stomach. Tears welled in her eyes and fell down her face as she cried out in agony. "Help! Guards!"  
  
It was not the palace guards but Merethiel and Legolas that rushed to her side, eyes wide with worry. "What? What is it?"  
  
Elenath blanched. Why was she calling for help? Suddenly she could not remember. Only vague shadows of a figure bending over her haunted her mind. It must have been a horrible dream, but it had seemed so real but a moment ago. Yes. Dimnarion had brought her tea and then she had fallen asleep and had a terrible nightmare. And now she was ill; so very ill. "I don't know," she sobbed, still holding her stomach. "I… I think that I'm dying."  
  
"Stay with her, Legolas. I'm going to get Grandfather!" Merethiel dashed from the room, screaming for Elrond as she went, leaving the prince alone with one very ill princess.  
  
"What can I do?" he asked, kneeling by her side. "Tell me. I cannot bear to see you suffer so."  
  
She shook her head, "I don't know. Just stay here with me. Please." Suddenly a pain so fierce took her that she screamed and writhed in anguish.  
  
Legolas could not just sit there, helpless. He knew a little of the healing arts. All Elves did. Closing his eyes he laid hands on her and began to sing a healing song while praying that Elrond was not far away. 


	18. Embraced in the Light

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
18.  
  
His musical voice wrapped around her like a warm blanket and she began to relax, focusing on his words and on his eyes. Elenath knew as well as Legolas that healing songs were much more effective when a physical touch was used and she cautiously slid her hand over his where it rested against her belly. He smiled when she did so, gracing her cheek with a light caress. They remained that way for a long moment after the song ended and Elenath's pain was mostly gone.  
  
"The Sword," she whispered at last.  
  
He nodded and reluctantly stepped away from her, walking around her bed. Awe-struck, he gently removed Calmakil from its mount on the wall and turned it over once in his hands. It was the most beautiful piece of craftsmanship he had ever seen in a weapon, and he could almost feel the power emanating from it. An audible gasp escaped him before he turned and offered the hilt of the weapon to her. "It is beautiful."  
  
"Yes," she answered. "I shan't put it aside again." When she reached out to take it, it immediately surrounded her with a bright light. Warm fingers of power pressed into her, drawing out the poison she did not know was there, and she had to lunge for the waste container at her bedside. Again she retched, breaking out into a cold sweat as her body trembled violently.  
  
The prince was behind her at once, sweeping her long black tresses away from her face and holding them back with one hand, offering support with his other. "My poor Willow," he whispered soothingly as she lay back upon her pillows, her hand still clutching Calmakil. "Let me help you with the Sword," he said. "It will be right here. Within easy reach, my lady."  
  
She tried to thank him, but the moment he touched Calmakil, the entire room lit up with brilliant light. Light that surrounded them both and seemed to draw them into each other. Hands clasped, their foreheads touched and their minds were transported to the past – Dimnarion leaning over her bed, taking what was not rightfully his, grinning arrogantly as he left the room. Legolas drew Elenath near in a comforting embrace as she shuddered, and the scene shifted to the future. The prince and princess of Mirkwood there in that room, a tiny dark-headed child in the princess' arms. And the sword spoke. "I have plans to prosper you; not to harm you…. You must trust me, Child."  
  
It was in this way that Elrond, Merethiel, and Gandalf found Elenath and Legolas. Still engulfed by the light, forehead to forehead, the princess' dark locks mingling with the prince's fair ones, fingers entwined, they sat motionless upon the bed.  
  
"What-" began Elrond, but Gandalf stopped him.  
  
"Silence," he hissed, "there is deep magic here."  
  
The prince whispered softly into Elenath's ear, but only the trees could be heard by the others, singing in their springtime voices along with the crickets and katydids.  
  
"O lovers fair beneath our boughs  
  
Think not of worldly sorrow  
  
But feed your hearts with passion sweet  
  
Fear not your hearts to follow  
  
Away the sun and silver moon  
  
May darkness hide you safely  
  
As love's first kiss does grace your lips  
  
And seal your fate completely…."  
  
Elenath felt the warmth of tears upon her face as she listened to Legolas' softly spoken words. "Dimnarion had no right…. I would have protected you had I been here…"  
  
"It was a dream, I think," she whispered. "Surely he would not have… and I would not have let him."  
  
"I will kill him if he so much as touches you again."  
  
"He frightens me," she admitted, "but I can take care of myself."  
  
"Nay, Willow," he whispered. "Even the strongest warrior needs someone to watch their back in battle. Let me be that someone. Please."  
  
For a long moment she could not speak, losing herself in the depths of his eyes. Finally four words came forth from her mouth. "When the laurel blooms."  
  
"But you saw what the Sword showed us…"  
  
They dared not talk about the future the Sword had showed them, for at that time, they glanced up to see the three who watched them wide-eyed.  
  
"When the laurel blooms," she whispered again. "I cannot defy my Grandfather without at least giving his plans a chance."  
  
Legolas reluctantly nodded, whispering, "Know that I will not leave Rivendell without you by my side." His lips lingered dangerously near to hers for a long moment, but he finally stood and turned to face Elrond as the light faded.  
  
The Lord of Rivendell spoke in a carefully controlled voice. "Prince Legolas, your father did not tell me that you were gifted in the healing arts."  
  
"I did naught but sing a simple song, my lord, Calmakil did the rest." Legolas paused uncertainly before adding, "You will want to post a guard at the Princess' door."  
  
"A guard? Legolas, Rivendell is a protected realm unlike the relative wilds of Mirkwood. Such precautions are not needed-"  
  
"Do as he says," interrupted Gandalf.  
  
Elrond looked at him in surprise. "Mithrandir?"  
  
"Dark magic has been done in this room, and not by the prince here," explained the Wizard. "Elenath, who visited you this night?"  
  
"Only Dimnarion," she said, "He brought tea and then I fell asleep." She mentioned nothing about the nightmare.  
  
Gandalf nodded. "I think I shall have a little talk with this Dimnarion. See to that guard, Elrond." With that, he left the room.  
  
***  
  
*Stupid!* Dimnarion again paced the floor of his chambers. *I let my desires get the best of me. And that memory block I cast will not last forever. I guess that means that my plans will need to be accelerated a bit.*  
  
He hid the grimleaf well in his drawer and headed for the stables. Far into the night he rode until he found the camp of the Orcs and sat down to Council with them. "I will bring her to you within a fortnight," he told them. "You are not to harm her in any way. If I find that you have disobeyed, you will all die horrible deaths."  
  
"It shall be as you wish, Master," they replied, knowing that they would be well paid.  
  
Smirking with confidence, Dimnarion returned to the palace before daybreak. 


	19. They're Onto Him

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
19.  
  
"Where have you been all night, Dimnarion of Mirkwood?"  
  
The elf spun around startled, as he was just about to pull the pouch of grimleaf from his drawer to begin preparation of Elenath's morning tea. He covered his intentions by pulling out a clean tunic instead. "Where I come from," he said, "It is not polite to lie in wait in someone's chambers, Old Man. What are you doing here?"  
  
"Where I come from," responded Gandalf, eyes glowering beneath his bushy eyebrows, "it is a crime punishable by death to practice dark magic. Where did you learn it, Dimnarion? And why did you use it against the princess of Rivendell?"  
  
"I know not of what you speak," he said calmly, "but if someone has harmed the princess, I shall be the first in line to punish them accordingly."  
  
"Did you visit her last night?"  
  
"I did," replied Dimnarion, "if you must know. But I do not understand why I should defend myself against a complete – and mortal, no less – stranger."  
  
Gandalf nodded. "Point well taken. I am Gandalf the Gray, Known to the Elves as Mithrandir. A Man I may appear, but in reality I am a Wizard and a trusted advisor to Lord Elrond. There. I am no longer a stranger. But you… you appear to be an Elf. Are you really?"'  
  
Dimnarion laughed amusedly. "What else would I be?" He removed his soiled tunic, revealing the rippling muscles beneath and quickly donned the clean one.  
  
Gandalf gazed intently at him. "I know not… What did you do when you visited the princess last night?"  
  
"I brought her tea," he replied, sitting down on his bed and facing the Wizard, "for the night was chilly and I knew she was ill. We talked for a short time. I helped her with her hair. Then she fell asleep so I left, not wishing to disturb her, the poor thing. Is she well now?"  
  
The Wizard nodded. "She had a hard night, but she is well enough to come to breakfast this morning. I will be watching you, Dimnarion. You have been warned." With that he stood and left the room.  
  
*Curses! Drat that meddling hobbit-loving Wizard!* Dimnarion stormed down the hall toward Elenath's chambers and inwardly cursed again when he saw it was guarded. "Let me pass," he said.  
  
"None shall pass," said the guard, drawing his weapon, "by order of Lord Elrond."  
  
"Fine!" spat Dimnarion, stepping back. "No need to threaten me when yesterday we trained as comrades. The Prince of Mirkwood shall hear of this."  
  
"He is within, my lord," said the guard, "and it is by his advice that Lord Elrond posted me here."  
  
***  
  
Days passed, and Dimnarion was forced to lay low, going about his regular duties as bodyguard to Prince Legolas. He tried to talk his master into letting him visit with the princess, but Legolas' attitude toward him had cooled quite a bit and he refused.  
  
They were onto him. That was becoming clearer and clearer to Dimnarion as time went on. Something had to be done, and quickly. He had to find a way to talk with her, but it seemed impossible. Even after Lord Elrond allowed her to rise from her bed and go about her training again, she was never alone. If Merethiel and Legolas were not laughing and talking with her, then Elrond, Gandalf, or her parents were. It made him sick to see them together, walking arm-in-arm. He had never seen one so coddled and overprotected and it amazed him to no end that Elenath even knew how to feed herself, let alone that she was a great warrioress.  
  
One thing that he learned as he watched was that Elenath had a seemingly unbreakable bond with her grandfather. Elrond was fiercely protective of her and would only give her what she desired if he felt it was in her best interest. She, on the other hand, made clear her devotion to him while ever going her own way. They worried over each other, she telling him that he worked too hard and he begging her to be careful in her training. And although they had some terrific arguments, they always ended up in a friendly embrace in the end.  
  
Dimnarion was not the only one who noticed this relationship. Legolas did as well, and asked Merethiel about it.  
  
"He loves us all that way," she replied with a smile, "but most of us do not challenge him. I think that her headstrong nature intrigues him and reminds him of our grandmother."  
  
"How will he respond when he learns that we do not plan to marry, Lady Merethiel?"  
  
She paled a little. "I try not to think of it. His anger can be fierce and his heart can be stubborn. Our disinterest in one another he will understand and accept, I think. But when he learns of your feelings for Elenath… May the Valar help us all. He does not want to let her leave Rivendell."  
  
"And I will not leave without her," he replied.  
  
It was comical to Airedolas and Llilwen to see the prince and their niece strolling arm-in-arm through Rivendell. The betrothed couple did well at making the entire kingdom believe they were madly in love while Elenath's parents knew the truth and did everything they could to encourage their daughter's feelings.  
  
As for Elenath, she was careful to spend no time alone with the prince for fear that her heart would betray her before the appointed time. She walked along with him and Merethiel quite often, though, and the more she learned about the prince, the more she liked him. He was not like most of the pampered princes she had met in the past. He was earthy and sincere, quick to laugh and slow to anger, gentle and kind in his dealing with her, fearless and strong on the battlefield and, not least of all, fair to look upon.  
  
Legolas admired Elenath's complexity. She was every bit a lady, even with her unconventional ways. On the battlefield, she was tough and unafraid, but in the throne room, she was mostly soft-spoken and kind unless Elrond riled her to anger. He loved her fiery temperament, appreciated the fact that she stood up for herself and did not rely on chivalrous males to defend her honor. It was as if she was born to rule a kingdom such as Mirkwood – a slightly wild kingdom – one that was not so very safe.  
  
Merethiel, though Legolas enjoyed her friendship immensely, would not last five minutes as princess of Mirkwood. The Lady had never even seen an Orc up close before, and the mere mention of giant spiders made her wriggle with disgust and fear. This he planned to tell Elrond as part of the reason he could not marry her. There was no way to protect her in Mirkwood as she was protected in Rivendell.  
  
***  
  
Days turned into weeks and Dimnarion had too much time to think about his plans. Originally, he had sought only to kill Elenath and take the Sword to destroy it. Now, he thought, death was to good for the princess. No. He would use her first for his own ends and then kill her after she had been thoroughly shamed and humiliated. He would kill her with Calmakil and then toss the Blade into the deepest sea along with her body. But first he had to get her alone, and to do that, he needed a distraction. A distraction which the Orcs would be more than happy to provide…. 


	20. An Orkish Distraction

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
20.  
  
It was a dark new-moon night when the terrifying alarm sounded in Rivendell. Orcs! Why they had dared to cross the borders, no one knew, yet they had. Elenath scrambled from her bed and dressed quickly, donning her armor and Calmakil and rushing into the hallway where she ran into her grandfather.  
  
"You will stay here," he said, escorting her quickly back toward her room.  
  
"I will not! My place is on the battlefield. I am the Sword bearer!"  
  
Elrond shook his head "You are not yet fully recovered. You will stay here, Elenath. That is my command."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Do not waste my time with your protests. The battle is nigh! Do as I say."  
  
"Yes, my lord," she ground out between clenched teeth, turning to leave.  
  
He caught her arm and pulled her near for a brief moment. "Elenath, do not be angry. I love you and only seek to protect you." With that, Elrond kissed her cheek and was gone into the dark night.  
  
Touching the place he had kissed her, she called after him, "I love you too… Grandfather" before retreating to her chambers. What had she been thinking, to speak thus to her grandfather as he left for battle? He could be killed, and then she would have to live with the fact that her last words to him had been angry ones. "Forgive me," she whispered and sat upon her bed.  
  
An hour passed; then two, and the armies of Rivendell did not return. Finally at the middle of the third hour, Dimnarion leapt into her bedchamber from outside, bruised and battered from battle. She scrambled to her feet in surprise. "What news?"  
  
"It's your grandfather," he said between gasping breaths. "My lady, he has fallen and wants you by his side."  
  
"No!" she cried. "What of the Orcs?"  
  
"Defeated and driven back. But come quickly, Princess. Elrond fades quickly."  
  
She followed without question into the pitch black Wood, and it was not until they were surrounded by Orcs that she realized her folly and drew her Sword. It shown with brilliant, angry light as Dimnarion pulled her near. "Do not worry, Lady," he whispered, "I will not let them hurt you." By the time the words had left his mouth, he had bound her hand and foot with strong cord. So quickly had it been done that she was left completely unaware and cried out in surprise.  
  
"None of that now," he rasped in her ear, stuffing rags into her mouth and tying them in with a piece of cloth. "Now give me that wretched Sword!"  
  
She held on with all her might, but he seized it easily, crying out in pain as it sent forth a burst of light. Dropping it on the ground, he kicked it and cursed. "Take her away. I'll deal with the Sword later."  
  
Moments later, she was being carried away from her home by the foul- smelling, hideous Orcs, wishing that she had listened to Gandalf and to Calmakil.  
  
***  
  
Dimnarion ran swiftly back to the house of Elrond, mentally noting where the Sword lay so that he could retrieve it later. Arriving just as the rest of Rivendell's armies did, he fell into step behind Prince Legolas and joined in the celebration that had started.  
  
"Victory is ours!" he laughed with his fellow guards. "Thanks be to the Valar!" Indeed he was giddy with his success. It had been far easier than he had expected.  
  
The celebration was in full swing before they noticed that Elenath and her Sword were nowhere to be found. Frantically, the Elves searched for her throughout the palace and the gardens. Legolas even searched for her at the waterfall with no success.  
  
"Stupid headstrong female!" Elrond ranted in his worry, "I told her to stay here, but apparently she could not! Idiot child! Not only has she lost herself, but Calmakil as well!"  
  
Merethiel shook her head. "You're being unfair, Grandfather. She knows better than to go out on her own with Calmakil. She would rather die than risk the Blade."  
  
"Well, she is not here, is she?" asked Elrond emphatically.  
  
"She must have been taken against her will, or tricked," said Merethiel. "I refuse to believe otherwise."  
  
The Lord of Rivendell let out a frustrated sigh. "No one rests until we find her. Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes, my lord!" answered his army, scattering at once.  
  
***  
  
The Orcs carried her far; farther from home than she had been since her earlier adventures when she rode out with Gandalf. She was blindfolded, so she knew not exactly where they were, or in which direction they had gone, but they marched for the rest of that night and, stopping to rest during the day, through the next night as well.  
  
What a fool she had been to take Dimnarion at his word. And her stupidity had caused her to lose the most cherished treasure of her people. She had failed them all. Even if she survived this ordeal, how could she ever face the Elves of Rivendell again?  
  
"Why don't you just kill me and get it over with?" she asked the Orcs as they marched through the darkness.  
  
"Aw, now, don't give up on life yet, Princess," said one of them roughly. "You have been chosen for a most honorable cause. And fear not, Master commands that you are not to be harmed."  
  
They finally stopped in a labyrinth of caves where they lay her in a corner on a relatively soft pallet and removed her blindfold.  
  
How long they kept her there, she knew not for she could see neither sun nor moon. But each time she was awakened by the harsh kick that the Orcs considered gentle, she wished only to die, to avoid ever having to face the shame that she had brought upon herself with her stupidity.  
  
***  
  
A week had passed since Legolas had last beheld Elenath's fair face and he was growing frantic. Upon the laurel bushes, buds had sprung. They would bloom within the next few days – yet the thought only distressed him further. She was gone, taken by Orcs, he believed. And he refused to accept that she was dead. Many dark nights he searched for clues to her disappearance though others had given up. And always he came back empty handed and frustrated.  
  
Gandalf, too, kept hope alive. He said that he felt her living presence still, though he knew not where to find her. He had questioned Dimnarion closely, but had not gotten anywhere. After all, many warriors had vouched for his presence as they returned to Rivendell. Who, then, had done this? And for what purpose?  
  
A grim silence had fallen upon Lord Elrond. Grief burned deep in his eyes and he refused to speak to anyone for days at a time. Late at night, he could be heard weeping in his chambers.  
  
Merethiel paced restlessly in her chambers day and night, not understanding why most of the searches had stopped. She suspected Dimnarion more than anyone and watched him closely. She knew his schedule like the back of her hand; knew when he came and when he went. It was not until a week and three days later that her vigilance finally paid off. She watched, concealed by a tree, as he packed many things – food and clothing, including dresses and cloaks suitable for a female elf, and set off down the Northern path away from Rivendell. 


	21. Dimnarion's Revenge

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Kinsman (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
21.  
  
Had Lord Elrond heard her when she called after him on the night of the battle? Did he know that she loved him, or did her harsh words ring in his ears still? These thoughts haunted Elenath whenever she tried to sleep, and suddenly she wanted to live. She wanted to live at least long enough to tell him how much she loved him. For surely Dimnarion had lied when he told her Lord Elrond had fallen and surely now her grandfather paced his throne room, wondering what had befallen her.  
  
"Water…" she whispered to the Orcs. "Please… bring me water."  
  
"Finally, the wretch is coming around," spat the Orc's leader, for up until that point she had refused any nourishment they offered and they'd had to force-feed her. A difficult task when they had been instructed not to harm her. "Here, drink this. It's about time you came to your senses."  
  
She allowed them to tip a cup to her lips and drank greedily.  
  
That evening, or what she assumed must be evening, for the Orcs had bedded down and set watchmen, Elenath closed her eyes and prayed earnestly.  
  
"Iluvitar," she whispered, "Creator of all… perhaps I am acting above my station to address you thus, for most of my kind pray only to the Valar. But the Valar seem far away and I feel that I am beyond their help. I… I know that I have been terribly prideful and that's how I got into this mess, but if you care for your creation at all, please help me." She closed her eyes. "Please help me…"  
  
Inexplicable peace fell upon her and she slept, though she did not know for how long, until a still, quiet voice and a gentle touch woke her. "Elenath… Wake, Child. My Father has heard your prayer and sends me to bring comfort."  
  
Sitting up rapidly, it took all of her self-control not to cry out with surprise. She had seen very few Men in her lifetime, yet here one was, dark skinned and dark haired, sitting next to her in the dark. Only the dark did not seem so dark anymore, and the Orkish guards seemed not to notice that anything was amiss. He held out his hands to her – callused, scarred hands, and she took them warily though her wrists were still bound together.  
  
"Who are you?" she asked. "Why have you come?" She looked into his brown eyes – eyes that shown with more love than she could ever fathom.  
  
"I am Iluvitar's son," he replied, "Someday you shall come to know me more fully, Child. But for now, I come only to bring you hope. The one that you call Dimnarion will be here ere morning. He will try to claim what is not rightfully his and you must resist him. Fight bravely though the odds may seem impossible. For Legolas of Mirkwood has rallied a party from Rivendell and they track the evil one even now."  
  
"Legolas…" she whispered, a faint smile touching her lips briefly. "But Lord, how am I to fight when I have no strength?"  
  
"My strength I give to you," he replied, leaning near to kiss her forehead. "This advice I also give to you. Never doubt Calmakil, for the Blade speaks only the words and does only the will of my Father."  
  
To her surprise, she felt stronger at once. Indeed, she felt better than she had since the Orcs wounded her. "Can you loose my bindings?" she asked.  
  
Iluvitar's son smiled. "Indeed, Child, I am in the business of setting captives free." He snapped his fingers over the rope and the weight of it disappeared, though her eyes told her it was still there. "You are free when you choose to be. Only do not flaunt your freedom or the enemy will bind you again, even more tightly."  
  
"What kind of magic is this?" she asked, her blue eyes wide with wonder. "Are you a Wizard?"  
  
"Indeed no, Elenath. I have told you who I am. And now I must go. Be not afraid for my Father has heard your cry for help."  
  
***  
  
"He came this way not two hours ago," said Legolas softly to the small band of Elves that stood around him. Gandalf, also, was there. "Come, we must make haste."  
  
Not many hours had passed since Merethiel had come to him with the news of Dimnarion's departure. Imediately, he had gone to Lord Elrond to request help in tracking. The Lord of Rivendell had granted it immediately.  
  
"If you bring her back alive," Lord Elrond had said in desperation, "then whatever treasure of Rivendell you desire shall be yours, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood."  
  
Legolas knew what treasure of Rivendell he desired more than any other, but he also knew that Elrond would not consider Elenath a treasure to be parted with. Still, he had to try. He had to save her if he could.  
  
When he had set out, the despair must have been apparent on his face. Merethiel had approached him and whispered, "I have heard your nickname for her, Your Highness. Remember this and take heart: a willow may bend and sway with the storm, but her heart is strong and her branches are not easily broken."  
  
The prince had come near to tears then, but he had nodded and given the Lady an emotional embrace. "I will bring her back alive, Lady, or I will not come back at all."  
  
She had squeezed his hands lightly and stood on tip-toe to kiss his cheek. "My hope goes with you, my lord."  
  
The trail was relatively easy to follow, much to Legolas' relief. His bodyguard had never walked with the lightness of the Elves and for this the prince was more than thankful. At one point he stopped upon the path, for he saw that Dimnarion had as well. There the undergrowth and old leaves had been disturbed, as if something had been hastily buried. Brushing the mess aside, he gasped to see Calmakil glinting in the sun.  
  
"Alas!" he cried, his heart rending within his chest. "Alas! She would never have parted with the Blade unless her condition was dire." Reaching out to take the Sword as he crouched on the path, he let fall only a few tears. The sparkling droplets landed upon the blade and glinted in the sun so brightly that he had to look away, his gaze then landing upon a willow swaying to and fro in the wind. "But while I still have breath, I still have hope!" he exclaimed, standing and sheathing Calmakil at his side. "Onward!"  
  
Speedily they ran on the path marked by footprints and broken branches until the sun set and they could go no further.  
  
***  
  
"Ah, my lovely prize!" exclaimed Dimnarion, looking down upon the sleeping form of Elenath. He kicked her solidly in the ribs to wake her. "On your feet, wench!"  
  
She struggled to her knees, her hands and feet still bound, gasping with the pain in her chest where he had kicked her. She was not fast enough, and he grabbed her by the hair to pull her up the rest of the way, slamming her against the wall of the cave. "Where is your pretty Sword now?" he sneered. "It seems you've lost it and you've no one here to help you!"  
  
Her eyes narrowed and she spat at him. "I don't see the Sword among your possessions either, Dimnarion. Would it not tolerate being handled by such a coward as yourself?"  
  
The comment earned her a vicious cuff across her face. His hand wrapped around her neck and he squeezed until the color drained from her face. "I am in charge here," he growled. "And I will be treated with respect. Is – that – understood?"  
  
He let go and she gasped for air, a wretched sound coming from her throat as she sank to the ground again, coughing and sputtering.  
  
"Stand up!" he commanded when she had had a moment to recover.  
  
Elenath unsteadily obeyed. "What do you want from me?"  
  
"Well now," chuckled Dimnarion. "That is an interesting question. At first I wanted only to kill you and to teach you a lesson."  
  
"What lesson?" She glared at him.  
  
"About why females should not be warriors. Do you want to know why?"  
  
She refused to answer.  
  
He called two Orcs over and commanded them to hold her in place while he pressed himself against her, whispering in her ear. "Because this is what happens to them when they are captured in battle." His hands roamed to places they had no right to be as he kissed her deeply.  
  
Just when she thought that she could take no more, he backed away and grinned. "Yes, I was going to teach you a lesson, and then I was going to kill you and get rid of that Sword."  
  
"What is it you want now?" she demanded.  
  
The look of utter glee upon his face terrified her more than anything he had done thus far. "A child," he said. "A child for me to teach the Old Ways of Dark Magic! You will provide this child, and then… then I will kill you." 


	22. Out of the Frying Pan...

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
22.  
  
Legolas scanned the forest for the thousandth time since they had lost the trail. He wanted to scream; to kick himself – anything! Mostly he wanted to find some sign of which direction Dimnarion had gone. They had been stuck there for twenty minutes, not knowing which way to go.  
  
Gandalf sat on a rock, stroking his beard and leaning on his staff. He muttered and hmmmed and finally settled back and lit a pipe. "Where is she?" he mused to himself. "Which way?"  
  
Raion looked off into the distance, closing his eyes and speaking his simple prayer to the Valar. "Please… please let us find her." And no sooner had he spoken it than a Man appeared near them in the Wood.  
  
Legolas' bow was at the ready at once for he had never seen such a Man. The dark skin, especially, was rare in Middle Earth, and he seemed to shine with some kind of inner light. "Who are you?"  
  
"Someone who wishes to help," said the Man. "That which you seek lies over the rise and within the caves. Make haste, Legolas of Mirkwood, for Elenath is in great peril even now."  
  
***  
  
"You disgust me," said Elenath. She felt the warmth of blood trickling down the back of her head where it had hit the cave wall, and her cheek had gone numb, her eye swelling shut.  
  
"Ah, but so do you disgust me, my dear. You and your arrogant, conceited family. You deserve to be humiliated. Come here."  
  
She glared at him and would not move.  
  
His eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth. "Come here now or I shall make you obey me!"  
  
"You cannot force me to do anything, you lowly pile of horse dung."  
  
He stretched his hands out to her and began to chant in that strange language again. "Xachta le lach tezkartle mo vel…."  
  
At once she felt the darkness descend about her, invading her mind like a drug and she felt her feet moving forward, one tiny step at a time.  
  
"You see?" Dimnarion grinned. "I could make you want me, you know. But I would rather hear your mental screams. So I give your thoughts free reign while enslaving your body to my will."  
  
She fought the darkness with every fiber of her being; fought like she had never fought before, yet she could not budge one muscle of her own volition. To her horror, she placed her arms around him and kissed him gently.  
  
"You may have guessed, Dear Elenath, that I am not who I seem. In fact, I am not what I seem, either. I am not an Elf, but a powerful Wizard – the same who killed your infant brother and cast Rivendell into utter desolation." He twined his hands in her hair and trailed them down to caress her bruised cheeks. "Imagine your Granddaddy seeing you now, like this. How ashamed he would be at the wanton acts of his beloved Princess!" He spat the last words out as he willed her to reach up to unfasten the toggles on his tunic.  
  
She could not allow him to do this. She would not! Managing at least to close her eyes she prayed silently for strength as he wrapped his arms around her and pressed her against the wall of the cave once more. His hands strayed to the toggles of her tunic and she trembled with the effort of trying to resist.  
  
Then suddenly her keen Elven ears picked out the sound of movement in the passages above and her heart was filled with new hope. Slowly, steadily, she managed to move her arm slightly and to close her fingers about the dagger that the Prince of Mirkwood had given her. Silently thanking the Valar, Iluvitar, and all the powers that be that the Orcs had not bothered to search her for weapons, she readied herself.  
  
"Oh, Dimnarion," she purred as he revealed her shoulders, "I have waited so long for this moment!"  
  
"As have I, My dear," he growled, rather pleased with himself. He bent to kiss her again and she stiffened with disgust and regret as she plunged the dagger into his heart.  
  
Such a scream as he issued had never been heard in or near the realm of Rivendell. She broke free from his spell and covered her ears, watching as Dimnarion aged before her eyes, finally turning into a pile of dust. Only then did the awful noise finally stop.  
  
Elenath was deeply relieved to see him crumble until she looked up to see the gang of Orcs eyeing her hungrily. Their master was gone and he had not paid them. She quickly realized that they considered her to be their payment and cried out for help as they closed in upon her. 


	23. ...And into the Fire

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
***A/N*** Sorry guys. I've had some wicked writer's block, but I think I'm better now. Been really busy buying a house too. And visiting with my mom. And missing my not-so-little-anymore sister! Forgive me?  
  
23.  
  
The five Orcs surrounded Elenath, threatening her with their garish, jagged weapons. But she had had it. She would not stand by and let those wretches kill her. No. She would go out fighting and take as many of them with her as she could.  
  
"You had best turn and run now and save your pathetic lives," she warned, glaring at them through narrowed eyes. She held fast to the little jeweled dagger and hoped beyond hope that help would arrive quickly.  
  
"Kill her," said the Orcs' leader and all five advanced on her at once.  
  
How she wished she had Calmakil! It was clear that she needed a larger weapon if she were going to have any chance at survival at all, and she scanned those carried by her enemies. Choosing a jagged sword carried by a smallish Orc, she flung the little dagger at close range. It plunged home and the Orc collapsed into a heap on the floor; the princess was upon him at once, relieving him of his weapon.  
  
"Now," she said, "Let us discover how well you fight when the match is more equal, hmmm?"  
  
In actuality, with her head pounding and her lack of nourishment for the last few days, the match was not equal at all. Besides, there were five of them and only one of her. Yet she refused to let them see her fear.  
  
One Orc thrust his spear at her and she dodged. Were their weapons poisoned with grimleaf? She decided then and there that she would have to be particularly careful.  
  
Ever mindful of the rescuers she hoped were coming, she made as much noise as possible as she slashed out with the Orkish blade, bringing another of her enemies down.  
  
***  
  
"This way!" shouted Legolas, "I hear her! She battles with the enemy even now." His jog changed to a sprint through the darkness of the cave. Elenath was still alive! He had heard her cry and hoped that he would not be too late.  
  
Gandalf brightened the light from his staff as he ran behind the Elves, struggling a bit to keep up. "Do not wait for me," he panted when two of them hung back to wait. "See to the princess."  
  
Faintly, Elenath's screams and the sounds of battle drifted up to the rescue party as they ran ever downward. These sounds grew louder and louder as they rushed downward, and the Elves drew their bows, knocking arrows.  
  
Presently they came to a fork in the cave and skidded to a halt, listening carefully until another shriek led them down the right-hand tunnel. So intent were they upon their task that no one noticed the small silent figure rushing along behind them, just beyond the light of Gandalf's staff.  
  
***  
  
Elenath panted and could barely keep her feet. She had killed three of the Orcs now and the other two regarded her with a mixture of fear and rage. They looked as if they could not decide whether to attack or to run.  
  
The princess hoped that they would run; prayed that they would, for she was exhausted. Her vision clouded and then cleared with the beating of her heart, and she swayed on her feet.  
  
Her life or death all came down to this moment. All her life, she had striven to be independent but now she wished for just one Elven warrior to help her. She recalled Legolas' words as the Orcs advanced on her menacingly: "Even the bravest of warriors needs someone to watch his back during battle." How true those words were proving now. As she felt her strength give way beneath the Orkish onslaught and rolled to avoid their blades, she wondered vaguely if she would ever see the Prince of Mirkwood again.  
  
Suddenly, Elenath's vision lapsed in a flash of blinding white light and she wondered if she had been slain at last. But then she heard a wonderful sound – the sound of familiar Elven voices shouting their attack. Still blinded, she felt herself being hoisted off the ground roughly by one of the Orcs, and she kicked and flailed for all she was worth until she felt cold steel at her throat.  
  
"Dim the light!" demanded the Orc. "Now, or I will kill her!"  
  
The light dimmed and Elenath was finally able to make out shapes around her. "Do not risk yourselves for me," she said, her voice as weak as the rest of her body. "Just tell my family how much I love them. Please."  
  
"You'll tell them that yourself," said Legolas.  
  
The Orc laughed. "Drop your weapons."  
  
Elenath heard the sound of bows and swords clattering to the cave floor. 


	24. An Unlikely Rescuer

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
24.  
  
Legolas felt his heart constrict painfully when he finally saw Elenath's condition. One eye swollen shut, her face battered and bruised, blood seeping from the back of her head, and an Orkish blade at her throat.  
  
"Let her go," he growled through clenched teeth.  
  
"Sure thing," laughed the monster. "I'll let her go. But only after Lord Elrond sends 100,000 gold coins for her."  
  
The prince had never felt so helpless in all his life. "We will bring you the coins, but you must let her go first."  
  
"You insult me!" growled Elenath's captor. "Do you think I am stupid? You will take her and I will never see the coins. No. You go. Get the gold. Bring it back and I will let her go."  
  
"She might not live that long," he said calmly. "You and your friends have practically killed her already, and Lord Elrond will pay nothing if his granddaughter dies."  
  
Dies? Elenath decided that she must look even worse than she felt. The Orc jerked her back roughly and she choked.  
  
"You'd better hurry then," said the beast. "All of you. Go."  
  
"I'll not leave her!" insisted the prince.  
  
"I'm warning you!"  
  
Elenath felt the cold steel of the blade press more firmly against her flesh and closed her eyes, whispering, "Flee, Legolas. Do not stay in this horrid place."  
  
The prince sighed. There was nothing else to do but obey. They were trapped in this tiny chamber, the Orc standing guard with Elenath at his mercy over the only exit. They could do nothing at all but leave and come back. He cast a questioning glance at Gandalf who shook his head. No. There was nothing he could do either.  
  
"Very well," said Legolas, but as the words escaped his mouth, something moved in the passageway behind the Orc. The prince's keen eyes caught the hem of an Elvish gown; the glint of an Elvish blade. Quickly, he continued as not to arouse the Orc's suspicion. "Very well. We shall go." He nodded in the direction of the figure who stood directly behind the Orc now. "You shall have your gold –"  
  
Suddenly the chamber filled with the noise of an Orkish scream as the creature fell limp onto the floor, leaving Elenath standing alone and unharmed in the entranceway. Confused, she turned around and covered her mouth with both of her hands.  
  
The Elves gathered could not tell if their princess was laughing or weeping. The only word they could make out as she embraced the one who had saved her life was "Merethiel!"  
  
"Merethiel?" whispered Legolas to himself. Perhaps the she-Elf was tougher than he thought.  
  
"Merethiel!" Elenath half wept and half cried. "By the sea and stars, Cousin, what are you doing here? You saved my life!"  
  
The sword the Lady had been carrying clattered to the floor and the two females were not long in following it – weeping and laughing and embracing one another as if it had been a thousand years since their last meeting.  
  
"I… I saw Dimnarion leaving with things for you and – Oh, please tell me the wretch is dead! – and Legolas left almost at once. I was so afraid for you, El, and felt just awful thinking about staying home waiting for news, so I decided to follow at a safe distance. I… borrowed your old sword, and - Oh, Elenath, what have they done to you?" asked Merethiel through her tears. She groped around in the semi-darkness for the sword that she had dropped. "We need to get you out of here and back into the light so I can see to those wounds."  
  
They tried to stand up, but Elenath found the effort was too much for her, especially as she remembered her own Sword – the one she had lost.  
  
As if reading her mind, Legolas stepped forward and sank to his knees next to the princess, taking both of her hands and speaking quietly. "I have Calmakil, Your Highness. Fear not – the Blade is safe." He could not resist softly touching her swollen cheek. "The laurel will bloom soon," he whispered, "Very soon, my love."  
  
Relief flooded Elenath's features at once. The Sword was safe. Her grandfather would not disown her now; nor would all of Rivendell dismiss her as a careless child. She was so thankful for this that she could do nothing but embrace the prince, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you. Thank you so much, Legolas."  
  
He lifted her into his arms and continued to whisper to her as they journeyed toward sunlight. "Shhh, do not weep, my love. You must save your strength."  
  
They were quiet for a long while, Elenath leaning her head against Legolas' shoulder, taking in the feel of his warmth against her; the scent of him like sandalwood and sage. Long evenings she had spent with this Elf in Merethiel's presence. Long hours in conversation. His heart and spirit seemed to be a perfect match for her own, unlike any other Elf she had ever met. And she had met many. Her grandfather had seen to that. "I needn't wait for the laurel," whispered Elenath at last. "Legolas, my father was right. My heart has found its home with you."  
  
He stopped right there in the darkness and let the others go on a ways down the passage. The light grew very dim. "You are weak, love, and wounded. You should not say such things when you are in such a state."  
  
"But it is true," she insisted. "More true than anything I have ever known."  
  
He sighed, daring only to kiss her forehead softly for fear that the others would come back and find them. "Then I guess that only one thing remains."  
  
"What is that?"  
  
"We must tell your grandfather." 


	25. The Laurel Blooms

DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
25.  
  
The journey home was long and hard. As soon as the adrenaline had left her, the pain of Elenath's wounds became almost too much for her to bear. It appeared that aside from the bruises and gashes she had received, she had also broken an arm and sprained an ankle. In addition to that, the sunlight blinded her after being in darkness for so long. It caused her such searing pain that they fashioned a blindfold for her.  
  
At the first clear pool they came to, Merethiel tended her wounds and bathed her as best she could. The icy water brought the swelling down and numbed the pain a bit, but they had not gone fifty strides before the pain was just as bad as before. Elenath bore it as well as she could, burying her face in the prince's tunic and willing herself not to cry out. Gandalf even offered to put a sleeping spell on her, but she wanted to be awake and aware of the loved ones that had come to rescue her. One thing was for sure. She would never take them for granted again.  
  
The male Elves took turns carrying her along the trail. Her comrades-in- arms joked that they should sling her over their shoulders as if they were on the battlefield and run all the way to Rivendell. Though their strides were smoother than most, she could not bear to think how much even that slight jarring would hurt and begged them to have mercy, trying to laugh through her tears.  
  
They bore her gently after that, as if she were made of glass, stopping now to allow her to rest and then to take some nourishment a little at a time. She could not even feed herself because of the blindfold, but every time she tried to remove it, she could not will her eyes to stay open to the bright sunlight.  
  
When they finally stopped for the evening, they leaned her against a tree and left Merethiel and Legolas with her while they looked for firewood. Elenath heard them disappearing into the underbrush, and as soon as they were gone, felt the warm presence of the prince beside her.  
  
"We don't have to stop," she whispered. "We can go on if you like."  
  
"You are tired and in pain beyond what any of us can understand. I know that the tears never cease falling from your eyes, Elenath, though you try to hide them. No, we must rest for the night."  
  
She felt his hand against her cheek, tugging gently at her blindfold.  
  
"The sun is nearly down. Let us see if your eyes can adjust to twilight. Then perhaps with the gradual brightening of sunrise they will adjust to sunlight again…"  
  
She reached up with her good hand to help him, but instead of taking hold of the blindfold, found herself holding his hand. She smiled as she cautiously opened her eyes and hungrily took in the world of fading light around her. Finally her gaze landed on Legolas and her smile brightened. In his hand, he held a small bouquet of laurel blooms.  
  
"I love you with all my heart," he said. "I thought I might die when we realized that you had been taken, Elenath. Please tell me… do you return my feelings?"  
  
"I do," she answered, taking the flowers and smelling them as he drew near.  
  
"Forgive me," he begged, "Forgive me for bringing Dimnarion here. I would have killed him myself if given the opportunity."  
  
"I know..."  
  
Hearing the approaching footprints of the others in the Wood, he searched her eyes for a long moment. "May I…?"  
  
"Please," she whispered, brushing an errant strand of his hair away and trailing her fingers down his cheek as he kissed her gently with a passion neither of them had ever experienced before.  
  
He had meant to pull away from her before the others returned; to pull away and act like nothing had happened, but Legolas was unable to do that. He felt as if he had been completed the moment their lips had met. It was a strangely intense feeling, especially because he had never felt himself to be incomplete. She, too, seemed reluctant to let him move away, and so he stayed, his forehead resting against hers, his hands twined loosely in her silken hair. "I love you," he said again and again. "Amin mela lle, Elenath. I'll never leave you."  
  
"Nor I you," she answered and kissed him again as the others came into the clearing and stopped, wide-eyed with shock and surprise.  
  
Gandalf stared at the two of them and sank down upon a rock, lighting his pipe as he went, his blue eyes twinkling with mirth. After taking a long drag from it, he blew the smoke out. "Well now," he said as if to himself. "Well, then… this complicates things a little."  
  
"Doesn't it, though?" asked Merethiel with a grin.  
  
The Wizard regarded her with raised eyebrows. "I do believe that cousin of yours has been a bad influence on you, Lady Merethiel!"  
  
The she-Elf only laughed. 


	26. Conversation by Firelight

26.  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
26.  
  
The warriors of Rivendell who had come with Legolas on the rescue mission for Elenath stood in silent shock for a long moment, looking from the Prince of Mirkwood to their princess to Lady Merethiel who seemed to be happy enough about the whole situation. Raion, as young as he was, could only stare and smile. He knew true happiness when he saw it.  
  
Elenath blushed when she looked up to find her comrades staring open- mouthed at her. Then she giggled – actually giggled – a sound that was rarely heard from the battle-hardened princess. That caused her to blush an even deeper shade of red. "I was," she tried to explain, "I was…"  
  
"Kissing Merethiel's betrothed?" asked one of the warriors, a lopsided grin on his face.  
  
"Don't want him," said Merethiel flippantly. "Never have."  
  
"How long has this been going on?" asked another.  
  
Legolas leaned back against the same tree as Elenath and looked up at the stars as they began to appear. "I have loved Princess Elenath from the first moment I saw her, before the Council of the Sword. But officially 'this' has been going on for about five minutes."  
  
"Oh, El," said the warrior, sitting on his heels before her. He was one that she truly respected, being much older than herself and a dear friend of her Uncle Thorondil. "Your grandfather is going to throw a royal fit. His mind is set on sending Merethiel to Mirkwood and keeping you here in Rivendell."  
  
"Won't go," said Merethiel, tossing some berries into her mouth and munching away happily. She was obviously very pleased with herself.  
  
"And you," said the warrior, looking to Merethiel. "You! If your father knew what you did today, he would… he would-"  
  
"He would be very proud," finished Elenath for him. "But I am sure that he is worried sick about you right now."  
  
"You are probably right," said the Lady, looking a little bit concerned for a moment, but then going back to her nonchalant berry-eating.  
  
Elenath regarded her fair-haired cousin with her own kind of glee. "Perhaps the two of us can switch places and convince Grandfather that you are me and I am you."  
  
They looked at each other for a brief moment and then burst into peels of laughter which were cut short by Elenath's howls of pain. Apparently she had bruised a rib or two as well during her ordeal. Still she could not help but snicker as she clutched her side. "I have dealt with Grandfather's royal fits before. I can do it again."  
  
The warrior shook his head. "With all due respect, Your Highness, I was there when Lord Elrond commanded armies during the Last Alliance, defeating the dark lord and saving Middle Earth from sure destruction. Yet you think he cannot stand up to his own young granddaughter? Tread carefully, Princess. This is no ordinary rule you are breaking, but a marriage contract between two great Elven Kingdoms."  
  
Elenath sighed, reaching out to take the hand of her trusted comrade. "I know. And I understand how serious this is. I… I just cannot bear to think of that now after all I've been through. Not a day ago, I thought I would never see any of you again."  
  
"At least wait to tell him until you are well and your mind has cleared," suggested Gandalf. "I will try to prepare him in my own way until then."  
  
"It will be as you say," she replied, leaning her head back against the tree, "for I haven't any strength left to argue." She sighed.  
  
Legolas shifted beside her, turning to face her again. "You have not told us what happened to you during your captivity. Perhaps now is not the time, but…"  
  
She looked around at her companions. "You would help me bear the burden of what happened to me?"  
  
They all gathered around the newly built campfire and cooked a meal while she told them the whole story from start to finish. By the end of it, they had all grown grave and not a little frightened – particularly Gandalf.  
  
"I fear we have not seen the last of Dimnarion," said the Wizard thoughtfully.  
  
And on that thought they made Elenath as comfortable as they could and took their rest only to rise again before sunrise in hopes that Elenath's eyes would adjust to the sun as it began its journey across the sky.  
  
***  
  
Gandalf need not have worried about Elenath telling her Grandfather anything at their first meeting, for the princess was quite speechless when she saw Lord Elrond, pale and drawn, in his throne room. Elenath's disappearance had been bad enough, but when Merethiel had gone missing as well, the poor Elf had nearly gone mad.  
  
"She saved my life," said Elenath quietly when he paused for a moment from his tirade in which he went back and forth between asking why each had run away and telling them how worried he had been.  
  
"And she didn't run away," added Merethiel. "She was tricked, just like I said."  
  
"Tricked? By whom?"  
  
"Dimnarion. He told me…" Elenath sighed, remembering how she had trusted him, and how the fear had welled instantly in her heart at his words. "He told me that you had fallen in battle, Grandfather, and that you were fading quickly and had asked for me." She gazed at the floor and watched her own tears splash upon the marble. "And all I could think of was that the last words I spoke to you were harsh and angry."  
  
At that, Elrond swept down from the dais and gathered the princess into his arms, holding her so tightly that she cried out in pain. Loosening his grip, he gazed into her eyes. "Granddaughter. I remember clearly. Your last words to me were, 'I love you, Grandfather,' and I carried them in my heart to the battlefield." 


	27. Memories

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
27.  
  
Elenath closed her eyes, relaxing into her grandfather's arms. How long had it been since she had allowed him to hold her this way, like a child? They were alone in her chambers, the cool evening breeze caressing their faces as he allowed his healing power to flow into her with softly spoken words and tranquil songs. He held her long after she felt no more pain; long after she felt the wholeness return to her; still singing, still speaking, still allowing his tears to fall, mingling with her own upon the silken couch beneath them.  
  
She had tried to apologize, tried to explain what had happened, tried to tell him she did not deserve this treatment, that she had almost lost Calmakil, but he would hear none of it. "Dina, astalderamin. Cormlle naa tanya telraa es lle ume quell. Be silent, valiant one. Your heart is that of the lion and you did well."  
  
"But Grandfather-"  
  
"Dina. Dina, Elenath… You bring great honor to Rivendell. You always have." He smiled. "I will never forget the first time you came to me with a sword in your hand. You were only four years old and had snuck into your Uncle Thorondil's quarters and taken his weapon. The sword was as big as you were and you could barely lift it." Elrond brushed her hair away from her face and laughed. "I was meeting with Haldir, the Captain of Lady Galadriel's guard, and you marched right past the sentinels posted at my door."  
  
Elenath remembered the incident as well. She had been trying to impress Haldir who was the largest, most noble-looking Elf she had ever seen. She thought at the time that she might like to marry him, and so she dragged her uncle's sword before him and held it high for just a moment, saluting him as she had seen Rivendell's warriors do. Then she had asked him to take her back to Lothlorien with him. The princess laughed at the memory. "What was it that he said to me, Grandfather?"  
  
"He turned to me and said, 'I do not recall being introduced to this particular warrior. You must tell me who she is, for I fear she has stolen my heart.'"  
  
"And then," continued Elenath, "I will never forget it. He knelt before me and looked deep into my eyes. And he said, 'You shall be a great warrioress one day, Aier Little One, and when that day comes, I will bring you white arrows from Galadriel's quiver.'" She sighed. "It makes me sad that I am not as great an archer as Haldir is. I fear that if we ever meet again, he will be disappointed."  
  
Elrond's deep chuckle filled the room. "Nay, Child, for you have grown to be both beautiful and courageous, and your skill with the Sword is unparalleled to anyone of your age. He would not be disappointed. In fact, the old bachelor might try to sweep you away to Lothlorien as his bride if given the chance."  
  
Elenath only smiled and remained silent, leaning her head against Elrond's shoulder. She had heard that Lothlorien was beautiful to behold, but it was in Mirkwood that she would make her home. Only, her grandfather did not yet know that.  
  
"You need your rest," he said at last, standing with her and gently laying her in her bed. "Gandalf is waiting to speak with me, but I shall see you in the morning. I love you, my bright star."  
  
"I love you too, Grandfather."  
  
***  
  
Legolas had never felt so happy or so complete. She loved him; had promised never to leave him willingly. The prince looked out upon the nighttime world of Rivendell as if for the first time, the energy coursing through him such that he could not rest. Elenath was perfect; so utterly perfect that sometimes he feared that she must be a dream – a figment of his imagination. He decided that he must see her and crept around the palace until he was outside her chambers. Silently climbing a tree, he looked in and saw her in her grandfather's arms, the two of them weeping and talking in hushed tones. He could not hear what was said, but their love for one another was obvious, and he looked away, ashamed of spying on them in such a moment. Instead, he gazed up at the stars and thought to himself with awe that they were not nearly as lovely or wonderful as she who now held his heart in the palm of her hand. Elenath. His strong willow.  
  
Chancing another glance into her chambers, Legolas saw that Elrond had gone, leaving Elenath upon her bed. There she lay for many long moments until she looked over at the vase of laurel blooms beside her bed and bolted upright as if she had just remembered something.  
  
They were supposed to meet this night, behind the waterfall.  
  
Legolas remembered too, and was waiting for her at the bottom of the stair when she emerged from the house with Calmakil at her side.  
  
Legolas' breath caught in his throat. Could it be that the exquisite creature before him was as enchanted by him as he was by her? Surely he was dreaming and would wake in Mirkwood when daylight came, for she gazed up at him with admiration bright in her eyes.  
  
As he gently took her hand, he spoke. "I know now why they call you 'Elenath Starry One'."  
  
She said nothing, but smiled, twining her fingers with his as they walked.  
  
"The splendor of the stars pales next to the beauty that you possess."  
  
Elenath's brow arched. She never had considered herself attractive at all. Her eyes were too large, her hair too wild, her figure too muscular. Many years had she spent with the warriors of Rivendell and never once had any of them called her beautiful. In fact, the only words of love ever spoken to her by anyone but her family had been the words spoken by Haldir, and he had only been humoring an erring child.  
  
"Nay, my lord. 'Tis not true, the words that you speak."  
  
"The prince of Mirkwood would never lie," he said, turning to face her. "And I say that you are beautiful; more lovely than any Elf-maiden I have ever seen."  
  
She looked down at herself, wearing her comfortable tunic and leggings. What could he possibly see in her?  
  
As if reading her mind, he chuckled. "You need not silks and jewels, willow. You are lovely just as you are."  
  
"You would not ask me to change; to behave as a Lady?"  
  
"I would not," he replied, gently pulling her behind a tree to kiss her. "I would not ask perfection to change."  
  
She melted into his kiss, her arms slipping around his waist and pulling him nearer. Elenath felt that she could never be near enough to him.  
  
"Besides," added the prince when they had reluctantly parted, "You are very much a Lady when the situation calls for it…. And every bit a warrior when you must be."  
  
They leapt from rock to rock into the pond, climbing the rock wall and hiding themselves behind the waterfall where they embraced one another as if they would never let go.  
  
***  
  
"Elrond." Gandalf spoke slowly, as if he was carefully considering each word. "I wish to talk with you…"  
  
The Elven lord smiled and motioned for the Wizard to sit across from him. They were in Elrond's library surrounded by leather-bound books and a good many scrolls, and a small fire danced merrily in the fireplace. "You know that my door is always open to you, my friend. You seem troubled. What is it?"  
  
Gandalf sighed, trying to think how he could breech the subject without angering his friend and alerting him to the situation before Elenath did. "What would you think of letting Elenath leave Rivendell?"  
  
Elrond shook his head. "I have discussed this with her many times, and she seems to understand. Rivendell is her home and she is needed here. In fact…" he paused. "In fact… I have been considering naming her as my heir."  
  
"Elenath, heir to the throne of Rivendell?" Gandalf leaned back in his chair and lit his pipe. This complicated things. It complicated things quite a bit. 


	28. The Arrival of Haldir

LEGOLAS FAN FICTION  
  
TITLE: Where Love May Lead  
  
AUTHOR: Emily Kinsman  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily Kinsman (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
SUMMARY: Prequel to Elenath. Legolas travels to Rivendell to meet his betrothed, but things do not work out as smoothly as his father and Lord Elrond had wished.  
  
28.  
  
"I will never understand, Elrond," said Gandalf, beginning to lose his patience that night in the library. "I will never understand why you insist upon controlling the lives of your family! You must let them choose their own destinies!"  
  
"I cannot," said Elrond calmly. "They are so young and so easily swayed. That which I see clearly is but a fog to them."  
  
"But surely you know that Elenath grows each day in her wisdom and grace! She should be trusted to-"  
  
"Elenath!" Elrond chuckled. "She wants so desperately to leave Rivendell to see the wide word. What would happen if I let her go? What almost happened to her at the hand of the Orcs? She cannot see the danger. But I will protect her. You speak truly of her wisdom and grace, and so she shall stay in Rivendell to take the throne when I journey West."  
  
"What if she does not wish to take the throne? What if she wishes to leave this place?"  
  
Elrond sighed in frustration. "What consequence is it to you, Mithrandir? If I did not know you so well, I would say that you are becoming more and more meddlesome in your old age!"  
  
"Meddlesome in my old-?" Gandalf shook his head, cutting himself off. "Elenath is my goddaughter, you pompous old Elf, and I happen to care very much about her."  
  
"Forgive me, Mithrandir. I doubt not your affection and care for Elenath. But what true knowledge have you of my granddaughter? She has changed since you set her journeying on foolish adventures three hundred years ago."  
  
"I think that she has not changed so much as you believe. Spend some time with her, my friend. You will see that her adventurous spirit and passion for travel have not decreased in the least. Now, if you will excuse me…"  
  
***  
  
Throughout the following weeks, Elrond did spend more time with his granddaughter and realized that her wanderlust had not decreased at all. However she had changed quite a bit in ways that he never would have guessed. There was certainly something different about the she-Elf. For one thing, he had caught her wearing silken gowns thrice in the past fortnight when no one had asked her to do so. She practically radiated happiness and it seemed to the Lord of Rivendell that she was somewhat less fierce than before. And, according to Thorondil, she had been rather distracted during training of late – a sure sign that something was wrong. Elenath had always loved the military arts. Why should she lose interest now when they should be more important than ever to her?  
  
Elrond rested his chin thoughtfully against his hand. Of course! It must be that Elenath's training had become redundant and boring and that she needed a change. Simple enough. This kind of thing was easily remedied. He called his head servant over and whispered into the Elf's ear for a long while, thrilled that he had come up with such a perfect solution. Give her a change of training and a change of scenery as well. She would be back to her old self in no time and ready to take her place as heir to the throne of Rivendell. "There will be a banquet," said Elrond. "Send riders to Mirkwood and Lothlorien to bring representatives. I have an announcement to make." He dismissed the servant, then called him back. "Make sure that Haldir of Lothlorien is among those who gather. And escort him directly to my chambers upon his arrival."  
  
***  
  
"He is up to something," said Elenath with a sigh. She turned to her godfather. "He has that gleam in his eyes. Whose life is he meddling with now?"  
  
"I am afraid it is yours, my dear. And his plans for you are not advantageous to-"  
  
"Of course they would not be!" she interrupted. "When has he ever made plans for any of our lives that are helpful to what we want? Why can't he just stay away?" Taking Legolas' hand, she gripped it softly. "Gandalf, I love this Elf. Him and no other will I marry. By his side I will stay, or be alone for the rest of my days. I think that the time has come to tell my Grandfather, don't you? Then he can stop whatever ridiculous plan he has come up with now before it is too late!"  
  
Legolas knelt beside her and gently brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Melamin My Love, first Merethiel and I must make it known that we do not intend to marry."  
  
"Legolas is right," said Gandalf. "Let him get used to the one thing before you tell him the other."  
  
At that moment, Merethiel came sprinting into the courtyard. "Elenath! Elenath! You will never believe who has just come riding through the gates!"  
  
The princess let go of Legolas' hand and stood, laughing at her cousin's disheveled appearance. "Calm yourself, Merethiel! Who? Who has come?"  
  
"Haldir. From Lothlorien."  
  
"Aule's Anvil! Merethiel, surely he has not-"  
  
"I know not. But he arrived just moments ago and reported directly to Grandfather's chambers."  
  
"What shall I do?" asked Elenath. "Shall I greet him? Or act as if I do not know he is here? Or-"  
  
Just then, Thorondil galloped in, leading another horse behind him. "Come, Elenath. The Lady Galadriel approaches with a contingent from Lothlorien, and her Captain has ridden ahead. We must see her safely to the gates."  
  
"Lady Galadriel?" she asked in wonder as she mounted the horse. As usual, Calmakil was already at her side and she donned her fighting gear as they went.  
  
***  
  
"That which your heart desires is almost within your grasp, Elenath of Rivendell…" A calming, quiet voice spoke in the princess' mind as they kept to the trees near the Lothlorien contingent. "But you must reach out to take hold of it, Child, or you will lose it." She caught a glimpse of the Lady through the trees, shimmering like sunlight upon water. Having been told that her great grandmother was both beautiful and powerful seemed an enormous understatement now. Longing to greet this magnificent Queen, she instead held her silence and scanned the forest for enemies, seeing only Haldir galloping at full speed toward them. Something was wrong. Elenath could feel it in the quivering of Calmakil.  
  
She had learned to trust the Sword and drew it at once, revealing herself to the guests of her grandfather and awaiting the approach of Haldir. The tall, broad-shouldered Elf drew up short when he saw her there, stopping only a few feet away.  
  
"Think you that I would harm my own Queen?" asked Haldir, outrage thick in his voice.  
  
"I do not, my lord. Yet Calmakil signals danger to me and I have learned to trust the Blade." Her expression was carefully neutral; her tone confident; and she did not move from her position.  
  
"Move aside."  
  
"I will not unless the Lady grants you leave to approach."  
  
Haldir's eyebrows sank into an angry vee; his blue-green eyes glinted with indignation. But Elenath saw something else there as well, buried deep. Approval? Admiration? She could not tell.  
  
Calmakil tingled in Elenath's hand – not the painful burning that she remembered from Dimnarion's presence, but perhaps a lesser degree of that. Yet the sensation was not altogether unpleasant. She was not sure what the Blade was trying to tell her but she would not leave Galadriel's safety to chance.  
  
"I give not my leave," the Lady spoke quietly, an amused gleam in her eyes, "unless Haldir can best Princess Elenath in a match. He – or she – who draws first blood wins. But I charge you be careful, for you are both dear to me." 


	29. The Last Straw

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
29.  
  
So that was the way of it. That was what Elrond was planning. Elenath's suspicions were confirmed by a large number of Rivendell's warriors gathering with those who had traveled from Lothlorien to surround her and Haldir. This was to be an assessment of her skills by the one who her grandfather hoped would be her new Captain. Elrond wanted to send her to Lothlorien.  
  
The princess wished to yield then and there, but when she glanced back at Thorondil, she knew that she could not. This battle was a matter of reputation for her uncle, and she could not blame him for gazing upon her with such hope. To be offered a place in Lothlorien's guard was a high honor for both the warrior and that warrior's master. Haldir moved to stand at the ready and Elenath mirrored him before she even knew what she was doing. Fine, she thought, This is for you Uncle.  
  
The terrible sound of clashing swords filled the meadow, drawing even more spectators from Rivendell. Elenath knew that her skill was not nearly equal to that of Haldir at once. The Captain of Galadriel's guard moved like lightning and the princess was barely able to defend herself, let alone return his blows. Still, she withstood his vicious attack and finally let her anger at her grandfather fuel an assault of her own.  
  
The blades glinted in the sunlight and sang in metallic voices as Elenath leapt, spun and thrust Calmakil toward Haldir multiple times. He seemed surprised for a moment. Indeed those he commanded stood gaping as three times Calmakil came dangerously close to nicking the skin of their captain. Before long, however, he had the upper hand once more. He rained blows down upon the she-Elf as if she had personally attacked his Queen. Desperately blocking and dodging, Elenath struck out once more, finally catching Haldir's arm lightly with the edge of her sword.  
  
It seemed to happen in slow motion - the small red line appearing on the Captain's forearm, staining his sleeve as Galadriel called the battle to halt. Rivendell's warriors burst forth into cheering and applause, and Haldir stepped forward with a large grin on his face. "You fight like a lion, my lady," he said, kneeling before her and kissing her hand. "I am your servant."  
  
"It was naught but luck, my lord," she replied, inviting him to rise. "You honor us with your presence, Haldir of Lothlorien. Welcome to Rivendell."  
  
"And you would honor us with yours, Your Highness. There is a place for you on Lothlorien's guard should you desire to join us there."  
  
She did not give an answer just then, but nodded as she stepped forward to tend his wound. It was not deep though his blood still flowed freely from it. "Forgive me, Haldir. I would not normally harm you intentionally."  
  
Those who had gathered began to disperse, though many looked as if they wished they could congratulate the princess. Her grandfather's head servant was shepherding them away and leading the Lothloriens to the palace, but Haldir took no notice, his attention completely upon Elenath.  
  
"This I know, Lady, for I have heard that you are as gentle and kind away from the battlefield as you are fierce when you are upon it." He winced a little as she applied a poultice and wrapped his arm in a clean bandage.  
  
"My grandfather can see to healing it more completely," she said softly with a chuckle. "You are not nearly so tall as I remember."  
  
"And you are not nearly so small," he replied with a rare smile. "Did I not tell you that you would be a great warrioress someday?"  
  
"That you did, my lord."  
  
"And would you still come away with me if I asked?"  
  
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye as they walked toward her mount. What exactly was he asking her? For what he said could be construed as a marriage proposal. She dodged the question. "You are much sought after as an instructor, Haldir…"  
  
He stopped and gently took her hands, gazing steadily into her eyes. "Lady, I am aware that we do not know each other well, but your grandfather has given me leave to court you."  
  
Elenath's eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly. She was speechless.  
  
Haldir sighed. "You are very young and I do not understand Lord Elrond's intentions. Perhaps he sees something in the two of us that is not apparent even to ourselves."  
  
"Perhaps," she murmured, looking away from the Elf she had admired since she was four years old.  
  
He moved closer to her, rubbing the backs of her hands lightly with his thumbs. "Vanimle sila tiri es lle naa belegohtar, arwen en amin Your beauty shines bright and you are a mighty warrior, my lady. I am willing to try if you are."  
  
Elenath felt her heart beat a little faster. How many childhood dreams had she had of this moment? Yet now that it was here, she felt only regret for the noble Elf before her and anger toward her grandfather. She had never been so angry with him, in fact. The only outward sign of that anger was a single tear that fell silently down her face. She gazed up at Haldir. "Captain Haldir, I cannot tell you how flattered I am. Words cannot express…" She shook her head and stepped forward, giving him a lingering kiss on his cheek. "But I must decline, for my heart belongs to another. I am sorry."  
  
"It is as I feared, then," he replied, gently returning her kiss. "Who is the lucky Elf?"  
  
"That I cannot say," she replied, "for not even my grandfather knows. But he will soon, my lord. He will soon. Come, let us join your Queen at the palace." 


	30. Elrond's Announcement

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
**A/N** From my understanding of the books, Galadriel is Elrond's mother-in- law. If I'm wrong, just lemme know.  
  
30.  
  
Haldir could tell that the princess was angry and mentally chastised himself for bringing up courtship so soon. "I am sorry," he said as he helped her onto her horse, "Princess Elenath, It was not my intention to upset you. I hope that you will still consider joining us at Lothlorien."  
  
"My lord, I am not angry with you, but with my grandfather. He meddles far too much in affairs that should not be his concern. And I plan to tell him so as soon as we return to the palace."  
  
"You have your great grandmother's spirit, Lady." Haldir bowed and mounted his own horse. "I am yours to command should you ever have need."  
  
"I think, Captain, that you shall be the one commanding should I accept your offer." Elenath smiled and eased into a gentle canter next to him.  
  
"All too true," he agreed, "And I hope that you will, for you show great skill for one so young."  
  
"Captain Thorondil taught me everything I know. It was for his honor that I fought today."  
  
"Then he must be very proud."  
  
Elenath's face was drawn and serious. "I hope that pride will offset his disappointment in what I am going to say to my grandfather. I have never been so angry."  
  
"Perhaps you should wait until your anger cools?"  
  
"Nay, Haldir. I have waited for long enough."  
  
What happened then all seemed a blur to the great warrior from Lothlorien. He watched from a distance as she dismounted near the stables and strode into the courtyard where she requested the company of the Lady Merethiel and Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood.  
  
"What is it?" they asked.  
  
"We are going to tell Grandfather the truth. All of it. Now."  
  
"But, Elenath-" began Merethiel.  
  
"I have had it with his meddling and it must stop immediately."  
  
"What has happened?" asked Legolas, looking at her with concern etched on his face.  
  
"What has happened? Did you not hear the clash of swords? The cheering? Legolas, Grandfather wishes to send me to Lothlorien for training! I just bested Captain Haldir in a sparring match!"  
  
"That is a great honor, Elenath!"  
  
"Indeed! I shall not deny it, but he also gave Captain Haldir leave to court me. He practically offered my hand to the Captain of Lothlorien's guard!"  
  
The color drained from the prince's face and Merethiel's eyes grew wide.  
  
"He didn't," she said. "He can't!"  
  
"He did."  
  
"Then we must tell him at once," agreed Legolas. "Come. We will find him at the banquet."  
  
"What banquet?"  
  
Legolas shook his head. "I know not what the occasion is, but representatives have arrived from both Lothlorien and Mirkwood today. They say they were summoned to hear an important announcement by Lord Elrond."  
  
If it were possible, an even darker cloud of anger covered Elenath's face. "I dread to think what that announcement might be. Come, before it is too late."  
  
The three Elves strode into the banquet hall to find Lord Elrond standing upon the dais speaking to the gathering. It looked as if every Elf in the kingdom had come, and when they saw her, every one of them stood to their feet, bowing and curtsying as they would usually do to her grandfather. Gandalf came up beside them and whispered, "Elenath, your grandfather has just named you his heir."  
  
The princess saw red. This was the last straw. Her entire body trembled as she approached the throne, and she actually wanted to strike him. She could not, however, for it was apparent that the entire kingdom was waiting for her to say something – to accept or decline what Elrond had offered. Fine. She had planned on discussing this with him in private, but he deserved to be humiliated after what he had just put her and Haldir through.  
  
"Good Elves of Rivendell," she began and the room fell silent. Elenath's anger seemed to fill the hall, though her tone was even and unerringly respectful. "I am beyond honored to receive such praise from His Highness Lord Elrond – our King. He must think very highly of my abilities if he believes me able to rule in his absence, which I hope will not come for many more thousands of years. However, it is with deep regret that I must decline this offer."  
  
The room burst into an uproar, all including Elrond asking why. She silenced them with a motion of her hands. Turning to face her grandfather, she narrowed her eyes. "I will not stay in Rivendell and therefore I cannot bear the crown."  
  
"Of course you will stay here!" said Elrond. "I have not granted permission for you to leave!"  
  
"Indeed you have not, unless it is for me to go to train in Lothlorien. Hear me now, Lord Elrond. I will go where love may lead me. I will not stay in Rivendell unless it be as a prisoner of the crown. I will not travel to Lothlorien unless my final destination is Mirkwood, for it is there, by Prince Legolas' side, that my heart resides now and will forever more."  
  
"Legolas?" bellowed Elrond. "What is the meaning of this?"  
  
The prince bowed respectfully before him and drew Elenath near. "She speaks truly."  
  
"Treachery!" he shouted. "Against my wishes in my own house-"  
  
"I will be heard!" interrupted Legolas. "Hear my words, Lord Elrond. When I went to rescue Princess Elenath from the deceitfulness of Dimnarion, you promised that I might return to Mirkwood with any jewel I so chose from Rivendell. That jewel stands beside me now, and I hold you to your promise." He paused for a moment as Elrond stood speechless before him, and then added. "I mean your granddaughter no harm. I love her, my lord. I love her more than I can tell you."  
  
"Merethiel?" roared Elrond.  
  
"I told you once, Grandfather, and I will tell you again. I do not wish to marry the Prince of Mirkwood. I have watched these two together and I can attest that their love is true – as true as any I have ever seen." Merethiel stood defiantly by her two friends. "I will not see them separated."  
  
"And I will not see years of negotiations with Mirkwood fail because of the hard-headedness of three young Elves!" Elrond advanced upon them with such speed that they had to resist the urge to cringe. "Merethiel, you WILL marry the Prince of Mirkwood in one month's time as is your duty as my granddaughter! And Legolas, you should be ashamed! Your father would be ashamed! As for you, Elenath… I had expected better. I am deeply disappointed in you."  
  
The princess' eyes filled with angry tears as she glared at her grandfather. "Not nearly so disappointed as I am in you, Your Highness." With that she turned and ran from the room.  
  
*** 


	31. A Lament for Durion

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
31.  
  
Elenath ran blindly from the banquet hall and past Haldir. The warrior looked first toward Elrond; then at Lady Galadriel who had a carefully neutral expression on her face. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and her gentle voice filled his mind. "Go to her, Haldir and see to her safety. You have much to teach this one."  
  
She did not have to ask twice. He turned at once and followed the princess into the Wood, considering as he went the meaning of his queen's words. What did Galadriel mean? What did she wish for him to teach this young one? He knew not, for he had seen many things in his long life and had much to teach.  
  
Elenath did not know to where she was running, but she found herself longing for her brother, Durion - the one who was slain by the Wargs one hundred years earlier. Durion would have known what to do. He would have made everything right with Elrond, and none of this would have happened in the first place because he had been the heir to Rivendell's throne. Besides, it was after his death that their Grandfather had become so protective. Now here she was, young Elenath. Durion's fiery little sister. She had inherited his Sword and now his political position as well, and she felt like a child trying on her mother's shoes. They were too big for her. It was all too big for her. Tears ran freely down her cheeks now as the very trees seemed to guide her through the Wood. She fancied she heard Durion's voice, singing as he used to do on long marches – as he had been doing that day when the Wargs attacked – but it was only the trees moaning and creaking in the wind. The forest seemed to darken with her mood, but still she pressed on, wishing to run herself to exhaustion so she didn't have to think anymore.  
  
On and on the two Elves ran before Elenath finally came to a place she had not seen since her brother's body was laid to rest in its stone vault. She stopped at the sight of the huge monument and leaned against a tree, barely out of breath. Then she flung herself against the tomb, weeping. "Why don't you come back?" she cried. "Durion, we need you! Why do you not return to us? I cannot take your place, though everyone expects it of me!" She sobbed against the cold stone for many long minutes. "I miss you," she whispered at last. "I miss you more than anyone could ever know. But you cannot hear me. You have gone to Mandos, and you cannot hear me..."  
  
"Elenath."  
  
Haldir's voice was soft but firm, and it startled him as much as it did her. She turned and stumbled to her feet, attempting to wipe the tears from her eyes.  
  
The sight of her nearly broke his heart, those big blue eyes gazing at him; her trembling hands clutching her long tunic, the tears streaming down her fair face. She looked every bit the child he had left behind all those years ago.  
  
"Aier Little One," he murmured, holding a hand out to her.  
  
She turned away in shame. "You will tell me now that this is why females are not meant to be warriors."  
  
"Nay, Aier. I would never say such a thing." He could not help but call her by the name he had given her all those years ago, though she was not at all little anymore. She was tall for a female, and strong.  
  
"Why did you follow me?"  
  
"Lady Galadriel worried for your safety, Elenath."  
  
"I can take care of myself." She turned and sniffed, still unable to stop her tears.  
  
The warrior could not help but smile. "This I know firsthand."  
  
"Then why did you follow?"  
  
"I follow the orders of my queen." He paused, looking at the ground. "And I was worried about you. I do not know the last time I saw an Elf so upset. Nor can I remember the last time I heard an Elf speak such harsh words as Lord Elrond just spoke to you."  
  
***  
  
"Some things never change, it seems," said Galadriel to Elrond in his private audience chambers. "You drive those who love you away with your need to control everything."  
  
The Lord of Rivendell remained silent, gazing out into the dancing Wood and listening to the rustling of leaves. It appeared that a storm was approaching, but he knew that it would not match the fury he had shown his two precious granddaughters only moments before. Why did everything he do have to fail? He tried – really tried – to do what was best for his loved ones, but to no avail. He succeeded only in angering them. It was infuriating! And what was even more maddening was that his anger lay mostly with himself. Why could he not let go? Let his children and their children live their own lives and make their own mistakes? But the thought of Elenath riding away to live in Mirkwood was too much for him to bear. He would likely never see her again. No. She would not be allowed to leave Rivendell unless it was on business of the Sword. "I am King of this realm. A king must rule, and that is what I have done this day."  
  
"You have ruled poorly, my lord, and dealt a death sentence to your beloved Elenath. She will not live without the one who has captured her heart."  
  
He heaved a long sigh. "If she leaves, it will be the death of me. I cannot bear the thought of not seeing her again."  
  
Galadriel sighed and stood to leave. "You underestimate your granddaughter's love for you. She would never leave you behind completely. Surely you must know that."  
  
"I cannot know it. How many years has it been since I bid your daughter farewell on what was supposed to be a short journey? And still she has not returned."  
  
"And your heart still longs for her. This I know, Lord Elrond. But do not let your pain intrude upon your granddaughters' happiness. Now, I bid you good eve. I shall see you in the morning."  
  
Elrond watched her go and then gazed up at the gathering clouds, feeling as if those same clouds were gathering within himself. He had a lot of thinking to do, and perhaps some apologies to make. Or perhaps not. He tapped his long fingers upon a table and turned to retreat to his chambers.  
  
*** 


	32. The Storm Approaches

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily Kinsman (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
**A/N** Sorry. This isn't a very good chapter. I've had a rough few days and have had to really work at writing. It will get better soon though, kay? Oh, yeah, and Birdie, Durion was mentioned way back in ch. 1 if you didn't see my note in the reviews :).  
  
32.  
  
"What would you do, Haldir, if you were me?" Elenath gazed into the eyes of the battle-hardened warrior.  
  
Haldir's brows arched in surprise at the question, then settled back down as he thought for a moment. "I cannot say, Your Highness, for I am only a warrior and thus have pledged my life to Lady Galadriel. What she commands, I do without question. But you, Lady, are royalty. While I cannot understand Lord Elrond's reluctance to allow you to give your heart to Legolas, your grandfather is known throughout Middle-earth as a wise and equable leader."  
  
She sighed and turned from him, resting one hand on Durion's tomb. "He has reason to act as he does in this matter. The loss of my grandmother nearly caused him to fade, Haldir, but that was long before I was born. And there have been others - dear friends, children, family members who have been slain or have sailed West to Valinor. Each one that left took a piece of Grandfather with them. Then there was Durion…"  
  
"I knew Prince Durion well, Lady. He was one of the finest warriors I have ever had the pleasure of training. I see much of him in you – the way you move with your sword, and your fearlessness."  
  
She did not bother to stop the slow tears that fell down her cheeks. "That is not surprising, my lord. My brother taught me much of what I know. The years that he spent in Lothlorien were some of the darkest of my childhood; I missed him so."  
  
Haldir stepped up behind her, placing comforting hands upon her shoulders. "You shall see him again one day."  
  
Forcing a smile, she turned and gazed into his eyes. "That I shall." Growing somber, she added, "Durion's passing nearly killed my grandfather. He had poured himself into my brother, preparing him to take the throne; and the two were so very close - like two halves of the same person. I would have gladly taken Durion's place, had the Valar allowed it."  
  
"But they did not, Lady, and it is not for us to decide such things."  
  
Suddenly Haldir stopped and listened, turning abruptly to the forest behind him. The wind was stirring last autumn's leaves about, but what he had heard was more rhythmic than that. Like footsteps. He nocked an arrow to his bowstring and stood at the ready. "Stay behind me," he whispered.  
  
Elenath complied but drew her Sword, listening for the sounds that Haldir heard. Long minutes passed before she finally did: footsteps in the wood, rapidly approaching. Then her ears caught the rustle of silk, and she knew that all was well. A moment later, Merethiel came through the flowering bushes at full speed and shrieked at the sight of Haldir's arrow pointed right at her.  
  
Clasping her hands to her heart, she sank quickly to her knees. "Nndengina amin Don't kill me!"  
  
The Captain had already begun to lower his arrow when Legolas came stealthily through the underbrush behind her, his own bow at the ready. The two males stood facing one another, arrow-to-arrow for a moment until the prince's face melted into a smile and he lowered his weapon. "Nae saian luume, Nikerym It has been too long, Captain," he said with a nod.  
  
"Legolas!" Haldir replaced his bow in his quiver and reached out to clasp hands with the prince, giving him a firm clap on the back. "Well met, my friend. Well met."  
  
Merethiel still knelt as one in shock, staring at the great warrior from Lothlorien. It did not take long for him to notice her there, still trembling slightly. "Forgive me, Lady, I did not mean to startle you," he said, offering his hands to help her up.  
  
"Th-think nothing of it, Captain. You… you just took me by surprise..."  
  
Haldir gazed at her for a moment, forgetting to release her hands. For a moment, it appeared that he would say something, but then he backed away and let go, turning to see Legolas take Elenath gently into his arms, stroking her hair as her slow tears still fell.  
  
"I was worried," said the prince quietly. "You should not run away like that."  
  
"If I had not run, I would have done something terrible to my grandfather. I cannot believe what he did today. Heir! He wants me for his heir!" Shaking her head, she stepped out of Legolas' embrace. "What next? And what shall we do now? You are to marry Merethiel in one month's time."  
  
"I will not marry him," said Merethiel, lifting her chin defiantly. "I refuse to be used as some… bargaining chip to gain the favor of King Thranduil of Mirkwood!" She stamped her foot. "Years of negotiations indeed! And all of it wasted. If they had just let nature run her course, Rivendell's ties with Mirkwood would have been restored to the joy of both kingdoms. I think… I think that we three should just run away!"  
  
"Nay, Merethiel." Elenath's voice was full of sadness. "Nay. I cannot run."  
  
Haldir had not felt so old in many hundreds of years. Next to Galadriel he was a mere baby, but these three before him were so very young. As he listened to their conversation, he had to hold his tongue to keep from advising them. "A warrior must never run from his problems," he murmured under his breath.  
  
Elenath's eyes met his – eyes that seemed full of years that she had not yet lived. "Especially when that warrior bears the Sword of Light. You speak truly, Haldir."  
  
At that moment a mighty gust of cold wind blew through the Wood causing the four Elves to gaze up at the gathering clouds.  
  
Haldir looked around himself. "One thing is for certain. We must find shelter, and fast. This is no ordinary storm, I fear. Is there a safe place nearby?"  
  
Fat raindrops began to hit the ground around them, sounding like great dwarvish hammers upon the earth.  
  
"Alas! My foolishness has led us once again into peril. But I do know of a place." Elenath gazed first toward her brother's tomb and then northward. "Follow me."  
  
They ran through the raging wind and giant raindrops, dodging the swinging arms of trees and bushes as they went and diving at last into a great cave carved into the side of a bluff. They were forced to run deeper in, for the wind blew water into the cave's mouth. As they fled the raging storm, Elenath's hand automatically reached to find a torch which sprang to life at her touch, illuminating the cold gray walls around them with flickering light.  
  
The others stared at her as if she had declared herself an Orc, and she smiled. "A gift from Gandalf. Come."  
  
Elenath led them to a side chamber that illuminated with what seemed to be natural sunlight as soon as she set foot within it and the four had to shade their eyes until they became accustomed to the brightness.  
  
"What is this?" asked Legolas, looking about. The floors were covered with soft straw mats, and against the walls rested an array of weapons and armor. A shelf on a nearby wall held an assortment of rocks, an old dagger, and a bulging leather pouch; and above them, embedded in the ceiling of the chamber, was the largest quartz crystal that any of them had ever seen. It was the source of the light.  
  
"This," replied Elenath quietly, "is a very secret place. Before Grandfather consented to my training, Durion used to bring me here to teach me the arts of war."  
  
Haldir chuckled. "Ah, Aier. You were a rebel from the very start then."  
  
She grinned at him. "Nay, lord, only from the time you told me that I would be a great warrior." 


	33. Elrond Worries

LEGOLAS FAN FICTION  
  
TITLE: Where Love May Lead  
  
AUTHOR: Emily Kinsman  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily Kinsman (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
SUMMARY: Prequel to Elenath. Legolas travels to Rivendell to meet his betrothed, but things do not work out as smoothly as his father and Lord Elrond had wished.  
  
  
  
33.  
  
Worry clouded Lord Elrond's eyes as he gazed out into the furious storm that had descended upon his kingdom. In his hand he held a glass of Elven wine, and he watched the oaks and beeches bend crazily in the wind as if dancing with the tall spindly pines and broad maples. He wondered where his granddaughters were.  
  
Praying to the Valar that Elenath and Merethiel had found shelter somewhere out in the Wood, he turned to an attendant and sent for Mithrandir, settling down in a chair to wait quietly.  
  
The ancient Elf's heart was heavy within his breast, for it had been his anger that had driven them away in the first place. And with them had gone Haldir and Legolas. Now all four were missing: two granddaughters and two foreign dignitaries. And the blame for it lay upon him, for all four were under his protection. He sighed and closed his eyes, imagining what King Thranduil would say to him if Legolas, his only son, was lost forever in Rivendell. The damage would be irreparable, not only to the two kingdoms but also to his heart, for he knew that Elenath's fate was most certainly intertwined with the prince's. He set the wine glass gently aside and watched as lightning lit up the blackened sky.  
  
"Father?"  
  
The voice was soft; uncertain; but he heard it clearly. It was Llilwen, his firstborn child and mother to Elenath. "Yes, Daughter?"  
  
She walked around to stand before him, her pale hands trembling, dark hair tumbling in disarray about her fair face, hazel eyes rimmed in red. It was obvious she had been crying. "Have you any news of the young ones?"  
  
Lightning flashed again, this time sending a mighty rumbling above the treetops. Elrond waited until the sound subsided and then spoke just as quietly as she. "No, Llilwen. I am sorry."  
  
The she-Elf nodded silently and began to back away, stopping when her father spoke once more.  
  
"You think that I was too harsh," he said as Airedolas appeared behind his wife.  
  
"Father, I would miss her terribly if she left Rivendell, but she is truly in love and I would not take that from her."  
  
"Airedolas?"  
  
"I agree with Llilwen, my lord. I have watched Elenath with Legolas and the prince is both noble and kind. I believe it is a good match."  
  
Elrond shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I must admit that I have never seen Elenath's heart so light. However, Mirkwood is a dark and dangerous place full of evil creatures. Spiders… Orcs… who knows what else? It is just too dangerous."  
  
Llilwen shook her head. "Forgive me, Father, but why then do you send Merethiel? She knows not how to defend herself and would surely perish in such an environment."  
  
Elrond nodded. "My point exactly. Merethiel knows that she is no match for those creatures, and so would not venture out without an escort. She would be safe and protected by Thranduil's guards in Mirkwood. But Elenath is far too independent. She would never consent to being guarded and could easily fall into danger there. No. I cannot allow her to go. I wish that there were a way to allow the Prince of Mirkwood to stay here with us."  
  
"There must be some way to keep them together," said Airedolas. "This is breaking her heart!"  
  
Thunder crackled again, and with another strong gust of wind, Gandalf arrived. "You called for me, Elrond?"  
  
"Indeed, Mithrandir. What think you of this afternoon's… display?"  
  
"I think," said the Wizard, sitting down, "that you are a stubborn old fool and if you do not change your ways, you will be the death of the very one whom you love so much."  
  
Elrond's brow creased, but his eyes twinkled. "I can always trust you to state your mind," he said. "Now, what of this storm? For I have the distinct feeling that it is not a natural one."  
  
Gandalf closed his eyes and held tightly to his staff, remaining silent for a long moment. He shook his head and sighed. "Dimnarion. It seems he has found a new form and seeks to destroy Elenath."  
  
"But she killed him!" Elrond burst out, standing quickly to his feet.  
  
"You should know, my friend. Wizards do not die so easily as that. This is certainly the work of Dimnarion. The only question is who and what is he now?" 


	34. Trapped

LEGOLAS FAN FICTION  
  
TITLE: Where Love May Lead  
  
AUTHOR: Emily Kinsman  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily Kinsman (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
SUMMARY: Prequel to Elenath. Legolas travels to Rivendell to meet his betrothed, but things do not work out as smoothly as his father and Lord Elrond had wished  
  
**A/N** Prayers over the Sword are from the Psalms.  
  
34.  
  
Elenath, Merethiel, Haldir, and Legolas sat huddled together in their sanctuary while the storm raged outside. The sound of crashing thunder and cracking trees could be heard even in the underground chamber. Before long, a great popping sound began, and when Haldir went to investigate, he came back pale and grim.  
  
"Hail. As large as melons. Thank the Valar that you knew of this place, Elenath, for neither Man nor Elf could survive such a tempest."  
  
He settled back down beside them, and Merethiel unconsciously rested a small, warm hand upon his arm. "Does the storm show any signs of letting up?" she asked eagerly.  
  
Haldir's heart seemed to skip a beat at the young she-Elf's touch and he gently placed his own hand atop hers. He had not felt such stirrings since his beloved had been so cruelly taken from him so many thousands of years ago on the eve of their wedding. Shaking his head as he gazed steadily into her eyes, he sighed. "Nay, Lady. I fear that we may be here for a long while."  
  
"Perhaps that is not such a terrible thing," she murmured, unable to tear her gaze from his.  
  
The smile that brightened his features reached deeply into his kind blue eyes, and he idly brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. Then he forced himself to look away. She was so young. Why would she want anything to do with an old, solemn, battle-hardened warrior? His gaze landed upon Legolas and Elenath who sat rifling through the leather pouch that had sat upon the shelf when they entered the room.  
  
Calmakil rested across Elenath's lap, and she took a soft polishing cloth and a small vial of clove oil from the pouch. Dampening the cloth with the oil, she began to polish the Blade, working the fragrant oil into the metal. Her lips moved as if in a silent prayer as she worked, and Haldir strained to hear her words.  
  
"I call on you, Iluvitar, for you will answer me; give ear to me and hear my prayer. Show the wonder of your great love, you who save by your right hand those who take refuge in you from their foes…"  
  
Legolas bent near as if straining to hear the words as well, but she took no notice. It was as if the Sword had drawn her into an entirely different realm. Haldir had seen this happen before with Prince Durion, and he whispered as much to Legolas when the prince's eyes met his own. "Usually when we were in grave danger," he murmured, drawing his own weapon just in case. Legolas did the same.  
  
"…Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings from the wicked who assail me, from my mortal enemies who surround me…."  
  
Merethiel drew near as well, and they formed a half-circle about the princess who then began to sing.  
  
"… They close up their callous hearts,  
  
and their mouths speak with arrogance.  
  
They have tracked me down,  
  
They now surround me with eyes alert  
  
To throw me to the ground.  
  
"They are like a lion hungry for prey,  
  
like a great lion crouching in cover.  
  
"Rise up, O Lord,  
  
Confront them,  
  
Bring them down;  
  
Rescue me from the wicked by your Sword…."  
  
Calmakil glinted in the light as she turned the Blade and began to polish the other side slowly, carefully, and with great tenderness.  
  
"… I do not trust in my bow,  
  
My Sword does not bring me victory;  
  
But you give us victory over our enemies,  
  
You put our adversaries to shame…"  
  
She then spoke many words that were either too muffled to hear or in a language none of them had ever heard before. Then she went on as she finished her task.  
  
"I love you, Iluvitar, my strength.  
  
You are my rock  
  
My fortress and my deliverer;  
  
You are my rock  
  
In whom I take refuge.  
  
You are my shield  
  
And the horn of my salvation,  
  
My stronghold.  
  
"I call to you  
  
You who are worthy of praise  
  
And I am saved from my enemies."  
  
There were three spots still visible upon the Blade, and Elenath looked up at Legolas.  
  
"The tears of true love can never be erased," she whispered.  
  
At once, the Sword shone brightly, drawing all four Elves into its memory of Legolas finding it upon the path as he searched for Elenath. They watched as his tears seemed to fall in slow motion upon the Blade, and then, as the memory faded away, Calmakil broke its silence. "And now these three remain:," it said clearly for all to hear, "faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love." When the light had faded and Elenath came back from that other realm, they looked down at the Blade. In the place where three teardrops once stained it were embedded three sparkling diamonds.  
  
Elenath's eyes found Legolas' and they gazed at one another for many long moments, still clasping hands. The feelings that welled up within them were beyond words, and so they said nothing at all, the silence speaking volumes on its own. Thus they remained until suddenly, a mighty crash sounded outside and Legolas and Haldir leapt to their feet. The Ladies followed them out into the corridor by the light of Elenath's magic torch and gasped in dismay at what they found. Three great trees had fallen, one atop the other, in front of the cave's mouth.  
  
"It is well," said Elenath mysteriously as she at last sheathed Calmakil at her side. "For now we will be well hidden from our enemies, whoever they may be."  
  
But Merethiel could not help feeling trapped and helpless, thinking to herself that they also would be hidden from their friends. 


	35. Enter the Dragon

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
**A/N** Special thanks to my best friend Rachael for thinking up the title of this chapter :)! Heehee.  
  
35.  
  
No sooner had Elenath spoken her thankfulness that they were hidden than a dark shadow passed by the mouth of the cave. The very earth seemed to tremble, and between the twisted, broken boughs of the fallen trees, they could barely see fire spewing forth from the mouth of a great creature.  
  
"A dragon!" gasped Legolas, turning and pushing the Ladies before him. "Flee! Quickly, back into the cave before he sees us!"  
  
Elenath stood as one stunned, her hand clamped to her Sword. It burned; burned as it had before in the presence of… "Dimnarion!" she whispered and was frozen in fear. She felt an intrusion in her mind, heard the words hissing forth from the dragon's mouth that had once wrapped her in Dimnarion's spell.  
  
Haldir took Merethiel's hand and led her back into the secret chamber while Legolas lifted the princess into his strong arms and followed close behind.  
  
"Do not let him take me," she whispered, "Please… he works his magic even now. He will force me to do things I do not wish to do…."  
  
Again, she felt Dimnarion's mind reaching out for hers, calling to her. She handed Calmakil to Legolas, along with the little jeweled dagger. "Do not let me leave this room. He calls to me, Legolas, with a strength much greater than before!"  
  
The prince's eyes widened and he closed the heavy stone door to the chamber, placing Elenath's weapons against the wall and pulling her near. "Worry not. I shan't let you go."  
  
"What is this? Why does she fear so?" asked Haldir, amazed at the change that had come over Elenath. She literally cowered in the far corner of the room, clinging to Legolas as if her life depended on it. "We are safe here."  
  
"The dragon. He is a Wizard-" began Merethiel.  
  
At that moment the princess stumbled to her feet, screaming the name of the beast as she struggled against herself toward the door. Legolas tackled her, pulling her thrashing form close and holding her as still as he could, clamping his hand over her mouth. "Shhh, Melamin My Love…"  
  
She whimpered and willed her arms to go around the prince's waist, burying her face in his shoulder, trembling with the effort of resisting Dimnarion's call.  
  
"What is the meaning of this?" the warrior demanded once more, drawing his sword and walking toward the Prince.  
  
Merethiel dove in front of her two friends. "He is saving her life! Let him be!"  
  
The earth trembled again and the wind howled. Thunder crashed loudly, though the heavy door muffled the sounds. Then a mighty dragon's roar rang out, starting loud and then fading away as if the beast was moving on. Long moments passed before the princess finally stopped struggling and rested her head against the cold stone floor, fighting to catch her breath.  
  
***  
  
An eerie calm settled over the palace of Rivendell, and Gandalf stood to his feet, taking his staff in hand.  
  
"What is it?" asked Elrond.  
  
"He has tried to ensnare Elenath," said the Wizard, "and has failed. Either she resisted him and remains hidden or…"  
  
He did not have to finish. Elrond knew what danger Elenath might be in.  
  
"Still," said Gandalf, "Still, I feel a glimmer… an inkling of something deep in the Wood." He looked at Elrond. "I feel that your granddaughter still lives."  
  
The earth shook, and the Elven Lord leapt to his feet, turning to look out into the Wood. "What foul thing is that?"  
  
The Wizard sighed. "He is coming."  
  
***  
  
Elenath lay trembling in Legolas' arms; the terror that had seeped into her so quickly seemed reluctant to leave. As the prince picked himself up from the floor and gathered the princess into his lap, he explained to Haldir what had happened between the Elf Dimnarion and Elenath. "How he found a dragon to do his work, I shall never know," he concluded.  
  
"He *is* the dragon," whispered Elenath. "I killed his Elf-body and he found another form, more terrible and powerful than before. Oh that I had waited for Gandalf to do away with him properly! But I could not. He was… He would have…" she shuddered. "I could not abide it. And now he makes for the palace. All I love and hold dear is in danger."  
  
"Galadriel!" Haldir exclaimed and leapt to his feet. "Alas! We are trapped in this place and my Lady is in peril!"  
  
The princess stood as well, walking unsteadily toward the great warrior. "Forgive me, Haldir. If it were not for me, you would be with her now."  
  
He turned away, striding to the door as if to leave and then stopping, as if he remembered the great trees and raging storm.  
  
"Please," said Merethiel, "My lord, do not fear so. Rivendell's warriors are fierce and skilled. And Mithrandir is with her. What better protection can one have against an evil wizard?"  
  
***  
  
"Hide," said Gandalf to Elrond, and then shouted the same to all the Elves who had ears to hear as he ran down the hall. "Hide! Quickly!"  
  
The earth shook again, and a great peel of thunder sounded.  
  
"I hide from nothing!" Elrond caught up with the Wizard who regarded him with stern admiration. "I may not be a Wizard, but this is my realm and I intend on protecting it!"  
  
"Fine. Then come with me"  
  
Galadriel joined them as well, a quiver filled with bow and white arrows at her back. "A dragon poses a threat to all of the Elven realms."  
  
"Dragon!" exclaimed Elrond. "There have been no dragons here since…"  
  
"There is one now," she said calmly. "I can feel it."  
  
The shaking became more defined as the three ran out into the tempest toward the enraged roars of Dimnarion. Then they stood at the very gates of the palace, waiting for the beast to appear. 


	36. The Storm Ends

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
36.  
  
Red glinting eyes and black scales in the moonlight. As soon as Galadriel saw them she took up her bow and fired, her shot embedding itself deeply within the creature's belly.  
  
The dragon seemed surprised at first, and then bared his teeth. "You try to kill me with the weapons of old, forged with magic to pierce dragon flesh. But in that way I can never be slain. Not truly." Dimnarion laughed darkly, spewing smoke as he did so.  
  
"That problem can be remedied," muttered Gandalf under his breath as Elrond unsheathed his sword. The Wizard held his staff aloft and began to chant.  
  
Dimnarion blew fire at Gandalf who was suddenly shrouded in a globe of light. The flames did not touch him, so the beast turned his attention to Elrond instead. "Give me the princess, you miserable Elf, and I will leave your kingdom in peace."  
  
Two orbs of light erupted from Gandalf's staff and surrounded his Elven companions.  
  
"You shall not have her!" Elrond held his defensive stance and marveled, as the dragon's fire did not touch him either.  
  
"Then you shall die!" Dimnarion charged toward them, Galadriel's arrows stinging him like angry hornets. He shrieked in agony but continued his forward march until Elrond lashed out with the full fury of his sword.  
  
"Back vile beast! I've not lived all my long years to be slain by the likes of you!" He sliced two toes from the beast's foot and caught the creature's belly with the edge of his blade.  
  
Gandalf stood and chanted, grateful for the distraction his two companions were providing. The incantation was almost complete, and then they could at least drive the beast away.  
  
Galadriel leapt over the dragon's tail as it swung around and shot yet another arrow into its rough hide just as Gandalf released a burst of light that surrounded the beast's head, entering through its ears and nostrils.  
  
Suddenly, all grew quiet. The wind and rain ceased in their fury, and only a distant rumbling of thunder could be heard. Looking up at the dragon, they could see only confusion and anger in its eyes before it turned tail and fled, lifting high up into the air and fleeing South more quickly than even Galadriel's arrows could fly. With it, the storm retreated, leaving the Wood around Rivendell suddenly quiet and disturbingly devastated.  
  
"After it!" shouted Elrond. "I'll not have him burning my palace gates tomorrow!" He started to run toward the stables for his horse, but Gandalf caught him by one arm.  
  
"He'll not be back," said the Wizard, "For he knows not who he is. I took his memory from him and Dimnarion is now fully a dragon. If he is like other dragons I have seen, he will find some dark place to hide and stay there till his dying day."  
  
"He will never remember?"  
  
Gandalf shrugged. "Perhaps after a thousand years he will have some inkling. But no, he will never fully remember."  
  
Elrond cleaned his blade and sheathed it quickly. "Thank you, old friend," he said to Gandalf as he clasped his hand. "I owe you my life and my kingdom. Now let us find the young ones and Haldir."  
  
***  
  
Their ears rang with the sudden silence, and Elenath was the first to stand and make her way toward the door. "The wind has stopped."  
  
All four walked to the cave's entrance and marveled. At the very top it seemed one of the trees had rolled away, revealing a crescent of bright stars. Thunder rolled lightly in the distance – all that remained of the tempest - and Elenath turned solemnly to the three who were there with her.  
  
"I owe you all an apology," she said softly. "If I had not lost my temper and fled, we all would have been safe in the palace this night."  
  
"Already you have learned one of the first lessons that I teach my students," replied Haldir. He patted her shoulder lightly. "A warrior must never run from his – or her – problems."  
  
She nodded to him. "I understand, Master Haldir. Will you forgive me?"  
  
"I will. But you are young and still impulsive in many ways. I have much to teach you if you would come with me, Princess. You could be the greatest warrior the Elves have ever seen."  
  
Elenath, touched the hilt of her sword and then placed her hand gently into Legolas'. "I do not doubt that my skill would increase a thousand fold under your tutelage. But that is a commitment I cannot make right now."  
  
The warrior nodded and gazed up at the crescent of moonlight above the mangled trees that blocked their way. "Perhaps," he murmured, "Perhaps we might climb out." 


	37. Going Home

LEGOLAS FAN FICTION  
  
TITLE: Where Love May Lead  
  
AUTHOR: Emily Kinsman  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily Kinsman (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
SUMMARY: Prequel to Elenath. Legolas travels to Rivendell to meet his betrothed, but things do not work out as smoothly as his father and Lord Elrond had wished  
  
37.  
  
Dawn spread her fiery fingers across the sky as the four trapped Elves picked their way cautiously among the branches of the fallen trees. It was most difficult for Merethiel in her fine silken gown, but before the sun had fully risen, they had reached the top and, one by one, squeezed themselves through the gap.  
  
Elenath was the first to reach it and gaze upon the devastation that the storm and the dragon had left. She almost lost her grip and fell, so great was her distress. Trees had toppled, perhaps one for every four that still remained standing. Their roots reached gnarled limbs high into the air, giving the forest a forlorn, haunted look. Broken branches littered the muddy earth among melting chunks of ice, and even the leaves of trees that still lived drooped cheerlessly.  
  
None of the four could bear to speak to one another as they lowered themselves back down the other side and began their journey to the palace through the desolate Wood.  
  
***  
  
"I am sorry, my Lord," said Thorondil. "The storm has erased any trace of them. They cannot be tracked, and we've no idea even in which direction they went."  
  
Elrond squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. Seeing his kingdom so devastated was heartbreaking, but he strove to remain optimistic, to keep his subjects' spirits high. Still, how could anyone survive such a tempest? Chunks of ice still melted in the shadows. They were as big as apples. How large must they have been when they first fell?  
  
"Take the guards and spread out," he said. "They must be found."  
  
Thorondil bowed. "As you wish, my lord."  
  
"And let some of the healers join you. They may be wounded."  
  
Galadriel approached them, her silken white skirts somehow unaffected by the mud. "Wherever they are, it must be quite a distance away. For I cannot sense them." Elrond's countenance fell for a moment before she took his hands to comfort him. "Neither do I sense that they have left these shores, Elrond. Be of stout heart, for I sent Haldir to look after the young ones. He will have protected them with his life were it necessary."  
  
"Alas, Galadriel. I know not whether I should stay and wait for their return or join in the search. I am restless to my very bones."  
  
"Go then," she said gently. "I shall be here to greet the young ones when they return."  
  
Elrond allowed the hint of a smile to touch his features. When they return. Not if. She had said "when."  
  
***  
  
"Go cautiously, Your Highnesses; Lady…" Haldir spoke in a hushed voice, his bow in hand. "The dragon may still be about."  
  
"Calmakil signals no danger, Haldir. Yet too much caution is always better than not enough." Elenath rested her hand upon the hilt of her Sword, but did not draw it.  
  
"In this Thorondil taught you well," said the warrior.  
  
They went on a ways in silence, watching the sun to assure they were traveling in the correct direction, for the forest had lost its familiarity to the storm.  
  
Merethiel suddenly stopped, regarded her three escorts, and placed her hands upon her hips. "I feel sorely outnumbered and pitifully useless among you three warriors. When we return to the palace, I should like to learn the art of archery."  
  
Haldir cast such a serious look upon Merethiel that Elenath feared he might refuse and perhaps even scold her, but he did not.  
  
"It would be a great honor to teach you, Lady, if your grandfather has no objections," he said with a nod.  
  
The sun traveled swiftly to its peak as they journeyed on, stopping only to refresh themselves with a drink of water and some lembas that Haldir had brought with him.  
  
"If only I had been rational, I never would have run this far." Elenath sighed.  
  
"I for one was surprised by how swiftly you ran, Aier," said Haldir. We came in only a few hours what would take most half a day or more." Suddenly he stopped, relief flooding over his face.  
  
"What is it?" asked Legolas.  
  
"My Lady is well. She speaks to me even now." He sighed. "Thank the Valar."  
  
"Does she know where we are? That we are well?"  
  
"Yes and yes," he replied, "And she requests that we make haste, for the entire kingdom seeks to find us."  
  
Elenath smiled. "We are nearly halfway. If there are search parties about, we should come upon them shortly."  
  
They had not gone much further when they heard fair Elven voices in the Wood and were found by Thorondil and a small group of guards.  
  
Elenath's uncle glowered at her. "My heart sings to see you alive, young one, but you have gotten into far too much mischief lately. There will be extra work for you at our next practice."  
  
Elenath sighed. "Yes, Captain. I am truly sorry."  
  
His only response was an unsympathetic glare that pierced the princess to her very heart.  
  
"And as for you," he turned toward Merethiel, his daughter, and swept her into his arms. "I love you more than my very life, and if you ever run away like that again, I shall feed you to the giant spiders of Mirkwood!"  
  
The Lady grew quite pale, much to the delight of her father and the amusement of Legolas.  
  
Elenath watched the display with deep sorrow in her heart. She must have really messed up this time for Thorondil to treat her so harshly. Though she knew she deserved it, it hurt nonetheless.  
  
They had not walked very far before the Captain sighed and turned toward Haldir. "I beg your pardon, sir. But you must understand that while Princess Elenath is under my command, she is also my neice."  
  
The slightest hint of a smile played on the Lothlorien Elf's face. "Master Thorondil, I knew that you had not grown so coldhearted as it seemed a moment ago. Please." He motioned toward Elenath who had stubbornly fought back tears since she had been so harshly rebuked.  
  
She gazed at her uncle with trepidation until he swept her into his arms at last. He held her close for a long moment, whispering as he stroked her hair, "You do not understand how much you are loved in this kingdom. If you did, you would not frighten us so."  
  
She lay her head on his strong shoulder for a brief moment. "Please forgive me. I was not thinking."  
  
"Reflect upon it, Niece, that you might remember this next time you seek to do something rash. Yet I do forgive you. Thank the Valar you are well."  
  
"Is Grandfather terribly angry?" she asked timidly.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Thorondil said nothing else as they trekked toward the palace, and the Princess grew more apprehensive with each step she took. Perhaps she had gone too far this time.  
  
***  
  
The company arrived at the House of Elrond at mid afternoon to find only Galadriel and a small number of Lothlorien guards waiting for them. The great Queen was overjoyed to see them coming through the gates and up the path.  
  
She smiled kindly at them. "Ah, the young flowers of Rivendell. Lord Elrond has kept you all to himself these long years." She looked from Elenath to Legolas, and then from Merethiel to Haldir with an amused gleam in her eyes. "I see that that shall no longer be the case, for your hearts rebel against his plans for you. Come, Granddaughters. Will you walk with me?"  
  
The two she-Elves followed her, and Legolas and Haldir watched them go, each of them deep in their own thoughts. 


	38. Elrond's Decision

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
38.  
  
"Your Grandfather seeks only the best for you both." Galadriel's voice was soothing as Elenath and Merethiel soaked in a hot bath. "Elenath, you must know by now that diplomacy is much more effective than angry outbursts when it comes to Lord Elrond."  
  
"Indeed, Grandmother. I do know this but I acted hastily. I was so angry that I felt I would burst when Haldir revealed Grandfather's plan to me."  
  
The Queen's musical laughter filled the room. "Many a young Elf-maiden would have swooned at the suggestion of courtship with the Captain of my guard. If the stories I have heard are true, even you were quite taken with him at one time. Yet it appears your heart is now otherwise occupied, Child. Tell me of Legolas."  
  
Elenath did, sighing as Galadriel's handmaiden combed and braided her hair. Then she exclaimed in delight as two of the most elegant of gowns the she- Elves had ever seen were brought forth from the Queen's wardrobe.  
  
They were deep shades of royal blue and purple, embroidered with silver flowers and edged with deep green silk ribbon. The low-cut necklines were squared, and the shear sleeves fell to flowing points at the floor, covering their hands.  
  
"Haldir shall be quite beside himself when he sees you." Galadriel admired Merethiel in the full-length mirror and smiled. "You are very special to have caught his eye. Many thousands of years it has been since I saw his heart drawn to another. And you, Elenath." The Princess stood looking at herself in the mirror as if she did not recognize herself. "Carry yourself as a Lady, and your grandfather may yet relent to a match with the Prince of Mirkwood." Galadriel laughed. "Legolas will not be able to tear his eyes from you."  
  
"My Lady?" A servant appeared in the doorway. "Lord Elrond has returned."  
  
***  
  
"Why have I been cursed with such headstrong, impetuous granddaughters?" Elrond ranted as he paced back and forth in his chambers. "You two will be the death of me, I swear it! Especially you, Elenath! You should know better than to run away like you did!"  
  
"I was angry," she murmured.  
  
"So was I!" he bellowed, "Do you not think I was angry to be defied by my own granddaughter before the Elven world?"  
  
"Not the whole world, Grandfather-" began Merethiel.  
  
"Yes! The whole world! My whole kingdom along with representatives from both Mirkwood and Lothlorien!"  
  
Elenath bowed her head in humility. "I am truly sorry, Grandfather. I should have spoken with you about these things in private instead of at the banquet."  
  
The Eleven Lord sat down hard upon his throne and gazed at the two youngsters before him. After a moment, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I must admit that I am at a loss for what to do."  
  
"I will apologize before Rivendell and our guests if you desire it," Elenath said softly.  
  
"Elenath, I worry not so much for my reputation, but for your future. You say you love the Prince of Mirkwood and I can see in your eyes that it is true. What would you have me do?"  
  
"Let me go with him," she whispered, "for I cannot live without him."  
  
"And what about Haldir who you have held in such high esteem since your childhood?"  
  
"I do not love him." She stood silently for a few long minutes and watched her grandfather's eyes as he contemplated the situation. Then it struck her that the Elf before her was king and really did hold her happiness in his very hand. She could not possibly defy him once his mind was made up. Panic consumed her and she sank slowly to her knees. "Please," she said as she fought back tears, "My Lord, I did not set out to defy you. I do not mean to be a vexation and an annoyance to you, but it seems no matter what I do, it is the opposite of what you want. Yet I cannot deny my heart." She gazed up at him. "Have mercy. Please. I shall die if you keep me from him."  
  
"And you would cast aside the throne of Rivendell for the Prince of Mirkwood?"  
  
She gazed at the floor. "It is a high price to pay, but I would."  
  
"Yet I cannot let you go." Elrond sighed. "Not to Mirkwood. Not with Calmakil. You do not know what evil lurks there and I cannot see you consenting to being guarded any time you go out."  
  
She sank to a seated position on the floor before him, her legs folded beneath her. "Grandfather, I do not need to be guarded. I can care for myself!"  
  
"Nay," he said, kneeling beside her and stroking her cheek softly. "Then I cannot let you go, for your inability to depend on the protection of others would be your downfall."  
  
"Please," she whispered, her eyes meeting his. "I would consent to anything – even a personal guard – if you would but let me go."  
  
Elrond sighed and stood, asking his guards to summon Prince Legolas. The Prince came at once, rushing to Elenath's side when he saw her upon the floor.  
  
"What is this?" he demanded of Lord Elrond, "Your own granddaughter prostrate before you on the floor like some sort of slave! What have you done to her?" Legolas took her by the hands and helped her to stand, taking her possessively into his arms and whispering to her, "Are you alright?"  
  
Elenath said nothing, but turned her attention to her Grandfather.  
  
"It is obvious that you care deeply for my granddaughter, Legolas. I was blind not to see this before."  
  
The prince looked up at Elrond with surprise bright in his eyes. "I love her, my lord, more than my very life."  
  
Lord Elrond nodded. "I will write a letter to your father, King Thranduil of Mirkwood. If he consents, I will allow you to take Elenath as your wife instead of Merethiel… on the condition that she is given a personal guard and… and that I might visit her as often as I wish."  
  
Elenath dissolved into happy tears, but Legolas only nodded solemnly for he knew that his father would never consent. 


	39. A Letter from Mirkwood

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
39.  
  
To Elrond, Lord of Rivendell  
  
From Thranduil, King of Mirkwood.  
  
Greetings.  
  
I apologize for my son's inappropriate behavior toward Princess Elenath, but I cannot consent to their marriage. Mirkwood has many fine warriors, and we do not need another no matter how great her skill. What Mirkwood needs is a princess; a Lady of high breeding who will bring the gentility of Rivendell to my court. Please see my son wed to Lady Merethiel at once and send them home before any other mishaps can occur.  
  
***  
  
Splash.  
  
The ink dissolved in Elenath's teardrop.  
  
Splash.  
  
It smeared across the page as she let King Thranduil's letter drop to the floor at her feet.  
  
Splash.  
  
Her tears fell upon the floor; her only comfort was Legolas' arms around her and her parents' sympathetic gaze from the far corner of the room.  
  
"Legolas will marry Merethiel on the morrow." Elrond's shoulders were squared but his face showed defeat and his voice was quiet. "I am sorry. There is nothing else to do. This agreement was made long ago by two fools who thought they were doing what was right."  
  
Elenath did not speak. She gently broke away from Legolas to look out upon the archery field where Haldir was instructing her cousin. Her heart constricted as she watched him fit his body behind hers to help her take aim, and saw him kiss the tip of her ear when the arrow hit its target.  
  
"It appears that four hearts will be broken this day," Legolas murmured as he watched over Elenath's shoulder.  
  
"It cannot be helped," said Elrond. His voice wavered. "It would be best…" He shook his head. "It would be best if you said your goodbyes while I go tell Merethiel."  
  
"No," whispered Elenath.  
  
The Lord of Rivendell sighed. "Elenath-"  
  
"I will not say goodbye until he rides forth from this place. I will stay in his arms until he must leave."  
  
"You mustn't. Doing so will only prolong your pain." He spoke firmly now. "Elenath, he will wed your cousin tomorrow. And then you shall never see him again."  
  
"You'll have to chain me to keep me away from him," she answered, still gazing at the floor. "I swear it. I would follow him to death."  
  
Elrond shook his head again and walked out toward the archery field; and Elenath watched as her cousin sank to the ground in despair. Haldir held her close for a moment and then was gone.  
  
"Your father doesn't even know me," the princess whispered to Legolas. "How does he know that I cannot bring gentility to his court?"  
  
"You bear Calmakil, melamin my love, and so he thinks you are very fierce. Perhaps even a bit wild. He is nearly as stubborn as your grandfather…. Elenath, I am sorry. I must do what my father wishes."  
  
"I understand," she said quietly. "Only do not say goodbye. Not yet. I swear I will be there to see you leave, though I could never watch the wedding."  
  
"As you wish… Meet me this night at the waterfall?"  
  
She nodded and tipped her chin up to receive his kiss. "I love you," she whispered. "I will love you until the day that I die."  
  
"And I you," he replied. "I will never forget what we shared."  
  
She turned and left the room, heading toward the archery field.  
  
"Where are you going?" asked her mother.  
  
"To offer Haldir what comfort I can," she replied and was gone.  
  
***  
  
Elenath found Haldir quickly, for he had gone only a short way into the Wood and sat down upon a fallen tree beside a babbling brook. His head was in his hands and he was muttering to himself, words that she could not hear. But she could feel his pain. It radiated from him like warmth from a fire.  
  
"Haldir," she whispered, reaching a hand to touch his shoulder.  
  
"Leave me." His voice was strained.  
  
She came nearer and, falling to her knees, wrapped her arms about him and felt his broad shoulders begin to shake with sobs. "I'm sorry," she whispered, stroking his hair, her own emotions numbed. "So sorry, Haldir."  
  
He chanced a look at her then, his brilliant blue eyes rimmed in red. "It becomes clear to me now that I am meant to be alone. For twice now I have loved and twice that love has been denied. I shan't risk it again."  
  
"Nay," she agreed, "Neither shall I, my friend. Neither shall I." 


	40. The Chapter You Have All Been Waiting Fo...

LEGOLAS FAN FICTION  
  
TITLE: Where Love May Lead  
  
AUTHOR: Emily Kinsman  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily Kinsman (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
SUMMARY: Prequel to Elenath. Legolas travels to Rivendell to meet his betrothed, but things do not work out as smoothly as his father and Lord Elrond had wished.  
  
  
  
40.  
  
Elenath would have been proud had she seen the reply that Elrond penned to King Thranduil that very day, attaching it to the leg of a bird and setting it to flight.  
  
To King Thranduil of Mirkwood  
  
Greetings.  
  
Your refusal to allow your son to wed Princess Elenath has broken four hearts today. It is folly to be so merciless. And what shall you gain but a prince and princess who pine for what should have been? No heir will ever come from such a union, and your stubbornness shall be the ruin of them all. Mark my words. There can be no friendship between kingdoms joined by angst and regret.  
  
As for Elenath, you misjudge her, and many a warrior in Rivendell would have taken up arms against you had I made your letter public. Our princess is indeed a great warrior, but she also is the embodiment of the gentility of my court. If you had but taken a few days to meet her, you would know this.  
  
However, I made a promise that I shall now keep. At midday tomorrow I shall send your son home to you. If Lady Merethiel has no objections, she will accompany him as his new wife. But know that as long as one so heartless rules in Mirkwood, there can be no true alliance between our two kingdoms.  
  
Elrond, Lord of Rivendell  
  
Elrond knew that it was harsh, but he had made the situation very clear to King Thranduil in his first letter, describing the love between Legolas and Elenath in depth. It was as immortal as the Elves themselves; their hearts were bound together for all time. No wedding ceremony would change that fact. But Thranduil had responded cruelly, insulting his granddaughter and ruining any chance at friendship that the two kingdoms ever had. Curse him. Mirkwood was not good enough for any of his family, but Elrond would not break his promise.  
  
***  
  
"Merethiel, I would never hurt you…" Legolas spoke softly. "I would try to make you happy."  
  
"I know," replied the Lady, turning away from him. "You are a good friend, Legolas, and I know that I needn't fear to become your wife. But why does your father insist that you marry me? Surely a match with Elenath would further his political goals if friendship with Rivendell is what he seeks."  
  
The prince sighed. "Political goals are secondary in this case, as is friendship with Rivendell. My father has only one thought on his mind when it comes to my marriage."  
  
"And what is that?"  
  
"I am his only son, and he worries for the Royal line of Mirkwood. He wishes me to take a wife who will provide an heir, not one who will fight and die in battle before she ever bears a child."  
  
The color drained from Merethiel's face. "I will not provide an heir. I do not love you, Legolas, and I will never bind myself to you in that way."  
  
"Tell me then, my friend… Do you wish to marry me?"  
  
"Of course not! Legolas, my cousin will die without you beside her!"  
  
"Then say no. Refuse my hand and there will still be hope. I will journey home and speak with my father. Perhaps… he may yet consent."  
  
***  
  
"I worry for you, Haldir." Elenath spoke softly as she walked beside him more deeply into the Wood.  
  
"Do not, Aier. I shall never forget her, but I have other reasons to live."  
  
"Galadriel."  
  
"Yes. It is I who should worry for you. What will you do after Legolas leaves?"  
  
"I know not," she said. Her brow furrowed, but no tears would come. She had shed so many during the past hours that she seemed incapable of it now.  
  
Haldir sighed and stopped in the path. "You will come to Lothlorien with me."  
  
"Come to...I'm sorry?"  
  
"Training hard is the only way I was able to cling to life after Anriwen died. It is the only way I can deal with… this… what is happening now. Perhaps it will help you as well."  
  
Her eyes met his but she said nothing.  
  
"We could be a comfort to each other, Aier." he said, his hand gently brushing her cheek. "I would never presume to take his place in your heart for I know that you could never take Merethiel's place in mine. But I am tired. Tired of being alone. Tired of she-Elves trying to capture my attention. Tired of being mocked for my bachelorhood."  
  
"Haldir, you are my friend and nothing more. I could not be your wife."  
  
"Think about it," he said with a kind, sad smile. "Just consider it. Even if you come to Lothlorien simply to train, my offer shall always stand, for there will never be another."  
  
She forced a small smile and kissed his cheek before he drew away. "Night is falling, my friend, and there is someplace I need to be. I shall see you tomorrow."  
  
"Tomorrow," he repeated with a nod.  
  
***  
  
The velvet blackness of a cloudy new-moon night enveloped Elenath as she crept silently through the Wood of Rivendell. Despite her distress, her heart raced with anticipation; her skin prickled with the hope of his kiss. She had not known what true love or true beauty was until the prince had arrived from Mirkwood six months ago. Legolas. Even the thought of him made her heart soar as high as it sunk low when she remembered that he was to wed Merethiel at sunrise. How could such a terrible thing have happened? Without him, she had no real desire to live. Yet even with these disturbing thoughts stirring through her mind, the promise of even a moment in Legolas' presence, listening to his sweet voice and feeling his warmth next to her, was enough to spirit her out of her chambers in the middle of the night while all in the House of Elrond lay asleep in their beds.  
  
She made her way to the waterfall – the one that had become their own. The night wind chilled her and sent her hair whipping about her face, but that did not stop her from leaping to the stones perched precariously in the water. It did not stop her from climbing the slippery boulders while spray from the waterfall formed tiny pearls of water on her skin.  
  
She smiled when she found Prince Legolas waiting there in the small hollow behind the protective wall of the waterfall, out of the wind. He was sunlight and summertime, blue sky and music and everything good in the world all wrapped into one Elven body. In his presence she was complete.  
  
"My love," he whispered, drawing her into a warm embrace "I am glad that you came." His lips found her temple, her cheek, the tip of her nose, and finally her lips.  
  
"You are to be married in the morning," she answered sadly, tracing the lines of his face with the tip of her finger and then burying her face in his golden hair. "I could not stay away. I had to see you one last time."  
  
He was resolute. "No, I will not marry tomorrow. The Lady has refused my hand and I refuse to force it. Elenath, it is you who I desire for my wife, if you would have me for a husband."  
  
A lump rose in her throat. "That is what I want more than anything," she said. "But I cannot see how it can ever come to be."  
  
"Perhaps there is still hope. Tomorrow I will ride home and speak with my father. I swear I will return for you. Even if he denies me, Elenath, I will run away with you for a time if I must. I am his only child and he cannot disown me forever if he wishes the line of his rule to continue." Determination creased his brow.  
  
"Legolas, I could not allow that. You came here to wed a maiden of Rivendell, to unite our two kingdoms. If we go against Lord Elrond's and your father's wishes, their wrath would consume us both. Our kingdoms would be driven further apart and nothing would be gained from our union."  
  
"Your grandfather would never harm his beloved granddaughter," he said soothingly. "And kingdoms will do as kingdoms will do."  
  
"Grandfather and I love one another too much," she whispered. "Could I bear to defy him so blatantly? I do not think that I would survive banishment from his presence." Hopelessness flooded her and she sank to the damp floor in despair. "I cannot live without either one of you."  
  
She could see tears welling in his eyes that she knew would remain unshed. Legolas did not weep easily. "Your love for your grandfather is beautiful, Elenath, just like the rest of you is beautiful. Do not lose heart, my love. We will find a way. I'm sure of it…"  
  
***  
  
It took every ounce of strength to part with him three hours before sunrise. She crept back to her bed and fell into the deep slumber of grief, even closing her eyes in her exhaustion. Yet she was awoken scarcely an hour later by the click of a golden cuff around her wrist.  
  
"Forgive me," whispered Elrond. "Seeing him again will only hurt you more."  
  
Elenath looked in disbelief at her wrist. The cuff was attached to a golden chain that had been secured to one of the columns in her room. "Grandfather please…"  
  
He shook his head with great sadness in his eyes. "I am sorry." Then he was gone. 


	41. An Unexpected Ally

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
41.  
  
She did not bother to scream or cry for help as the sun peaked his golden head above the horizon. Elenath simply wept beneath his brightening rays, her heart shattering into a million pieces. She was chained like a bird in a gilded cage, and everything depended upon Legolas now. She knew he would fight tooth and nail for his father's blessing to wed her; she only wished she could tell him she loved him once more.  
  
***  
  
"Where is Elenath?" asked Legolas as he prepared to mount his horse. "She told me she would be here to bid me farewell."  
  
His companions shrugged and shook their heads.  
  
"She is unable to be here this morning." Elrond came forth to offer his hand in farewell, but Legolas did not take it. The older Elf sighed rather dramatically. "It is better this way, Prince Legolas. Trust me."  
  
The prince regarded him with marked suspicion. Lord Elrond was up to something.  
  
***  
  
Elenath's heart skipped a beat when she heard familiar footsteps in the hallway. "Merethiel?"  
  
The she-Elf poked her head in through the door and gasped. "Elenath! What are you doing here? Legolas is about to leave!"  
  
She lifted her tearstained face to her cousin and then lifted her imprisoned wrist. She had never felt so helpless.  
  
"By the sea and stars! Tell me that Grandfather didn't do this! Haldir!" Merethiel screamed her beloved's name as she disappeared down the hall. "Haldir!"  
  
***  
  
Legolas' brow furrowed in anger. "What have you done to her?"  
  
"I have not harmed her, Legolas."  
  
"Where is she?" he demanded. "Tell me!"  
  
Elrond remained silent, and Legolas could have sworn he saw the Elven Lord's mouth twitch at the corners, as if he were trying not to smile.  
  
"This is no game, Elrond, though you seem to find it amusing. So be it. If you will not tell me, I shall have to find her myself." He pushed firmly past Elrond and walked purposefully toward the palace.  
  
Rivendell's king could do naught but follow. This was going exactly as he had planned.  
  
***  
  
Haldir tossed Merethiel's hairpin aside. He could not pick the lock. Baring his teeth, he growled, "I never knew your Grandfather could be such a fool!"  
  
Elenath looked up at him with such despair in her eyes that he almost went mad. Drawing a dagger, he attempted to saw through the golden cuff, but it seemed as hard as iron. Finally, drawing his sword, he took a fierce swing at the chain but it would not break. He even took a calculating glance at the column to which she was chained, knowing that the roof would cave in if he hewed it down.  
  
"Alas! I cannot free you," he said at last, sinking down next to her. "I am sorry, Elenath."  
  
She shook her head, allowing her tears to fall once more as Haldir gathered her into his arms next to Merethiel, and there the three of them sat - huddled together in hopelessness.  
  
***  
  
Legolas burst through Elenath's chamber doors and stopped short at the sight of the three elves huddled together upon the floor. His eyes traveled the length of the golden chain from the column to Elenath's wrist and he let out a strangled cry before falling onto the floor next to her and taking her trembling form from Haldir.  
  
He gazed into her eyes, brushed her hair away from her face. "Who did this to you? Chained! Chained like some wild animal!" He did not have to wait for an answer, for Elenath's eyes gave away the culprit. They strayed to Elrond who stood at the far end of the room with Llilwen and Airedolas, whose countenance had darkened like an approaching storm.  
  
Legolas stood and glared at the Elven Lord, his anger rolling off of him in waves. "How could you? All she wanted was to bid me farewell. Is that too much to ask?" He closed the distance between himself and Elrond in what seemed to be less than a second. "She loves you, loves you enough to obey even when it tears her very heart out, and this is how you treat her? My father seeks to bring the gentility of Rivendell to our courts. Indeed if he only knew how things are truly done here, he would never have sent me!"  
  
Elrond shrunk back, afraid for a moment that Legolas would strike him. Not that he would blame the prince. He would have done the same if someone had chained his beloved to a column to keep her from bidding him farewell. Perhaps this had not been such a good idea, but it seemed to be working. "Now Legolas, I-"  
  
"There can be no excuse for this so do not even bother to speak. You disgust me! You do not love her; you cannot! If you did, you would not have done this. Look at her! She begins to fade already. Do you see it?"  
  
Indeed the Elven radiance that surrounded her had already dulled. Elrond opened his mouth as if to speak, and then closed it. Legolas was right. There was no excuse for doing something like this. "I… I am sorry. I was wrong. I only thought…"  
  
"You did not think," Airedolas finished for him. "Obviously." His face was flushed in angry red, his fists clenched at his side. "I cannot believe that you did this. She is my daughter, Lord Elrond. MY daughter! And I have half a mind to take her far from Rivendell so that you can never harm her again!"  
  
"Ada, no!" whispered the Princess.  
  
Legolas had retreated back to take her in his arms once more, his lips brushing over hers gently, touching her forehead, her nose, her cheeks. "Do not weep," he whispered. "I'll not leave you. I cannot leave you now." He looked up at Elrond and held Elenath's wrist up to him. "Free her."  
  
"She cannot go with you, Legolas." That dramatic tone of voice again. The twitching of the corners of his mouth enraged the prince.  
  
"What is wrong with you? Free her!" demanded the prince. "I said nothing about taking her with me. But I will not leave her. Not unless my father comes for me himself."  
  
Lord Elrond actually smiled. "So be it, young prince. I will summon your father to council and this matter shall be resolved once and for all." With that he pulled a key from beneath his robes and unlocked the golden cuff. At least he knew that Legolas was willing to fight for his granddaughter's happiness, and he could not help but be pleased about that. After all, he was quite fond of the Prince of Mirkwood. Still he'd had to make sure – absolutely sure – that the young Elf loved his granddaughter enough to do what he had just done – to defy his father to ensure her safety. Elrond was sure of that now, for the prince had gone against his father's mandate to return home. And that fact alone was enough to prompt him to give his blessing. Gazing into the prince's smoldering eyes, he placed a hand on his shoulder. "Legolas, I can see how much you love her, and though I am loath to let her go, I swear to you that I will do all in my power to assure this match."  
  
The fire in his eyes did not lesson. "Then why did you do this?"  
  
"I had to be sure of your love for her," he replied.  
  
Slowly the prince of Mirkwood stood up and faced Elrond eye-to-eye. "Lord Elrond, I love Elenath more than you can know. She is my very life, and I would give up my home and my crown to be with her if that is what it would take."  
  
"Let us hope that will not be necessary." Elrond summoned a messenger and placed a quickly penned note into his hand. "Take this to King Thranduil of Mirkwood. Tell him his son has refused to return home and that I have requested a council with him. If he refuses to come with you, his son will be wed to Elenath ere the winter snows fly." 


	42. Interlude

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
**BEWARE! GRATUITOUS SUGARY MUSH WARNING ;)**  
  
42.  
  
Haldir laughed in the bright morning sunlight. Scarcely a fortnight had passed since all had been set right in his life. On the same day that Elrond had sent his messenger to King Thranduil, he had asked for and gained the Elven Lord's permission to court Merethiel. Now the young she- Elf stood before him with his bow in her hands, aiming an arrow carefully at a target.  
  
"Careful now," he chuckled. "I am running short on arrows. Do not lose another, Melamin my love."  
  
The truth was that she had not lost a single arrow since the day he began to teach her. She was a natural, which was more than he could say about his other student. Elenath was hopeless. He had not believed her at first when she told him as much, but he certainly believed it now and had already dismissed her for the day.  
  
Merethiel let the arrow fly and it landed just off the bulls-eye. She turned to Haldir who shook his head, clicking his tongue at her. "Very disappointing," he said.  
  
She smiled. "Not fair. You distracted me!"  
  
"Distracted you? Would I ever do such a thing?"  
  
"Well," her voice softened to a musical lilt. "Perhaps you should show me once more how I am to aim."  
  
"Hmmm… Now that sounds like a good idea, young Merethiel." He stood and walked over to her. "Now turn. Turn your back to me. Yes… very good."  
  
Merethiel sighed, leaning back into the muscled hardness of his body, her mind nowhere near the target she was supposed to be aiming for. She could feel his warm breath against the back of her neck. Her knees weakened when he wrapped his arms around her waist.  
  
The two took the proper stance, and Haldir closed his hands about hers, watching with approval as she nocked the arrow to the bowstring as if she had been doing it since the day she was born. They pulled the bowstring back and began to take aim. But then his name escaped her lips. "Haldir…" Little more than a whisper it was, but both Elves lost their grip on the string and the bow, sending the arrow skittering through the trees, nowhere near the target.  
  
Merethiel laughed, turning back around to face him. "You missed, Haldir! You completely missed the target!"  
  
He could not help but laugh with her. "That is Captain Haldir to you, my Little Warrior. Besides," his eyes sparkled with mirth, "you distracted me!"  
  
She shook her head, setting the bow and quiver gently aside. "Impossible. I could never distract so fierce and noble a warrior. And from Galadriel's guard, no less!"  
  
"Aye, from Galadriel's guard," he answered. "You did distract me. You do distract me." He advanced on her like a predatory animal. "You distract me any time you are near." She shrieked joyfully as he caught her in his arms and held her tight, running his fingers through her long flaxen hair. "An entire army of snarling, shouting, nasty Orcs has no affect on my concentration, but you… You, my dear, definitely distract me…"  
  
"I'm sorry," she whispered, laughter in her voice. "I promise I'll not do it again… on purpose."  
  
"…And I cannot bear to think of my life without you. I want you to distract me every day for the rest of my life…"  
  
"Every day?"  
  
"Yes." He grew suddenly more solemn and sank to his knees before her. "Merethiel… Lady Merethiel of Rivendell… Will you marry me?"  
  
Her breath caught in her throat and tears sprang to her eyes. "You… you want me for your wife, Haldir?"  
  
"If you will have me," he answered, looking more vulnerable than she had ever seen him.  
  
Sinking down next to him, she took his hands and looked into his eyes for what seemed like hours. "The great Haldir wishes to wed me…"  
  
"You should not be so surprised, Amaelamin my beloved for I love you more than my own life. Please say yes…"  
  
She smiled and reached up to brush a stray strand of hair behind his pointed ear. "Yes."  
  
***  
  
Elenath gazed out of her grandfather's chambers toward the archery field, a fiery blush rising to her cheeks as she watched Haldir give her cousin a smoldering kiss. "Perhaps a double wedding, then?" she murmured idly as her handmaidens unrolled bolts of fine cloth before her. She looked them over and sighed. "It is folly to begin work on a gown that may never be worn. King Thranduil may not approve of this union."  
  
"Whether my father approves or not, Elenath, you will be my wife." Legolas came up behind her and wrapped her in his tender embrace, allowing his eyes to gaze out upon the archery field. "Ah… I see the fair maiden has agreed to wed the fierce warrior from Lothlorien."  
  
"Indeed," replied Elenath. "And would the fair prince from Mirkwood agree to wed the fierce warrioress from Rivendell?"  
  
He laughed and pulled her near. "Now, Mela Love, I believe the question should be, 'Would the radiant princess from Rivendell agree to marry the brave and valiant warrior prince from Mirkwood?'"  
  
She regarded him with laughter in her eyes. "I might consider it if you would kiss me like that." She pointed to the archery field where the newly engaged couple was still lost in each other's embrace.  
  
"Indeed?" Legolas gazed wolfishly into her eyes. Much to the delight of Elenath's giggling handmaidens, he backed her gently against a wall and kissed her until she was out of breath and barely able to stand.  
  
When he pulled away from her at last, she gazed up at him with eyes full of love. "Kiss me like that again and I shall marry you and do whatever you ask for the rest of my life."  
  
"Please!" Elrond's amused voice came from the doorway. "Not again. Not here. Though I doubt any Elf has ever heard or will hear again such an offer from Elenath. Now, then. I have word from your father, Legolas." He deposited a scroll of parchment upon the table between them. It bore the still-intact seal of King Thranduil of Mirkwood. "If you would like to do the honors."  
  
"I would," replied the prince, beckoning to Elenath as he broke the seal. "This letter may well hold our fate. You should see it as quickly as I, my Lady." 


	43. Portrait

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
43.  
  
To Elrond, Lord of Rivendell  
  
Contrary to your belief that I am heartless and cold, I am not an unreasonable Elf. If my son refuses to return to me without Princess Elenath, he must have good reason. I have pressing business to deal with in Mirkwood, but will respectfully join you for council within a fortnight of the day you receive this message.  
  
For the love of all things sacred, Lord Elrond, do not allow my son to marry before my arrival. The friendship of our kingdoms hangs in the balance.  
  
I have the utmost confidence that we shall find a solution to satisfy both of our needs in this situation while also respecting the wishes of our children.  
  
King Thranduil of Mirkwood  
  
Elenath cast her gaze upon Legolas. "Think you that there is yet hope, my love?"  
  
"My father can be stubborn at times," he said, "but he does love and respect me. And as long as we both draw breath, Elenath, there is hope. Do not forget that."  
  
***  
  
"Hold still," said Merethiel, laughing as Elenath fidgeted in her chair. "Just another moment. I am almost finished. I swear you have the most unruly, difficult hair!"  
  
"That is not the only thing about her that is unruly," commented Elrond from the doorway. "You would think I had asked her to hang up her Sword for good the way she resists."  
  
"I have better things to do than to sit for a portrait, Grandfather!" Elenath grimaced as Merethiel pulled her braids a little bit too tight. "An entire day to be wasted! And what am I to do while I sit for the artist?"  
  
Elrond shook his head and moved on as Merethiel leaned down and whispered into Elenath's ear, "I shall tell you what I plan to do, Cousin. I shall sit and smile and think of Haldir… and what we shall do on our wedding night!"  
  
The sound that came from Elenath's mouth could only be described as a squeak. "Merethiel!"  
  
She shrugged, giggling. "He says I am most lovely when I blush. You should think about Legolas. Then thousands of years from now our grandchildren will look at the portrait and wonder what we are smiling about."  
  
Legolas. Elenath sighed, that familiar nervous feeling creeping into her stomach again. It had been nearly a fortnight, and still King Thranduil had not arrived. She wished more than anything that the council was finished. The fact that she knew not whether she would be dancing at her wedding or mourning the loss of her beloved in a few weeks' time was too much for her to bear. Besides, she was frightened. Never in her nearly one thousand years had she been afraid of any Elf, but the thought of King Thranduil storming in and declaring her unfit to wed his son absolutely terrified her.  
  
"I should be out on the practice field with Haldir and Thorondil, working off some of this nervous energy," Elenath sighed.  
  
"Calm yourself, El," Merethiel pinned her cousin's hair back away from her face, the same way Elenath had done for her. "At least if the king arrives today, he will see how much a lady you truly are. You look absolutely lovely."  
  
A shy smile touched the princess's features. "Not nearly so lovely as you, my friend."  
  
The two of them wore the dresses that Galadriel had given to them, dainty satin slippers, and silver circlets upon their heads. Their hair was arranged in thousands of tiny braids and adorned with precious stones to match their gowns.  
  
A handmaiden appeared in the doorway and smiled. "The artist awaits you in the courtyard."  
  
With a tremendous sigh, Elenath stood. "Let us go. The sooner he starts, the sooner he shall finish."  
  
***  
  
Elenath sat next to her cousin beneath a golden-green willow tree with her skirts arranged just so. The artist gazed at them, moved his canvas, and then gazed at them once more. "Please relax, Your Highness. Just act as if you are enjoying a lovely autumn day here in the garden."  
  
"I should be enjoying this lovely autumn day on the practice field," she said under her breath as she shifted a little to pretend like she was enjoying herself.  
  
Merethiel tilted her head slightly and laughed, much to the dismay of the artist. "Please, Lady, put your head back the way it was."  
  
"I shall get a cramp in my neck if you force me to sit that way," she said jovially.  
  
"Oh for the love of-" the artist checked himself. "Perhaps Lord Elrond would like an informal portrait?"  
  
"That would be acceptable," said Elrond, looking on from the side with an amused expression on his face. "It is unlikely that you will succeed in anything formal this day."  
  
"Very well, then, Lady; Your Highness… Just act as if I am not here."  
  
Elenath's eyebrows shot up. "Truly?"  
  
The artist nodded, and Elenath leapt to her feet. "Then to the practice fields I go!"  
  
Elrond laughed and caught her in his arms. "Not so fast. Elenath! Go. Sit down you stubborn Elf-maiden! I shall summon Legolas and Haldir from the practice fields that the four of you might have a picnic. That should keep you in one place for long enough."  
  
When the two warriors arrived a few minutes later their hair was slightly disheveled and each sported light bruises in various places. It was obvious they had been working hard. They took one look at the Ladies beneath the willow tree and offered to go change their clothing, which was slightly rumpled and dirty. But the artist was suddenly excited, as if inspiration had come down upon him.  
  
"Nay, lords," said he, readjusting his canvas. "You are perfect just as you are." He nodded toward the Ladies. "Please. Join them. And then pay no attention to me."  
  
The four sat and chatted for a long while as they ate, bantering back and forth as they usually did. Now and again, the artist would ask them to look this way or that for a moment, but for the most part, he left them alone. Hours later, just as the sun had begun to sink in the Western sky, silver trumpets began to sound the approach of a royal guest and Legolas and Elenath leapt to their feet.  
  
"My father approaches," said the prince.  
  
The artist stood up in desperation. "Please. Please I beg you. Just a few moments more. The light is fading."  
  
Elrond nodded at them and they reluctantly sat, stiffly waiting for the arrival of King Thranduil in the courtyard. 


	44. Arrival of the King

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
44.  
  
Elenath steeled herself against the coming scorn of the King of Mirkwood as the hoof beats drew nearer. From the sound of it, he was riding into Rivendell as if chased by the giant spiders of his realm. She looked up at Legolas who gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Do not be afraid, my love. He is but my father."  
  
She watched the gate as King Thranduil galloped into the courtyard and pulled his horse to a quick stop. A tiny smile played upon her lips when she saw that he was just as beautiful and fierce as his son, only a bit broader in the face and shoulders. He had the light eyes and golden hair common to the Elves of Mirkwood. Only the tiny wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and the air of mature wisdom that surrounded him betrayed his age. The king surveyed the scene as he dismounted, a look of pure exhaustion and worry heavy upon his brow until his eyes landed upon the painting. Only then did he allow himself to smile, looking from the canvas to his son and the princess at his side.  
  
"An exquisite portrait, is it not, King Thranduil?" Elrond approached the king with a nod. "Welcome, my old friend, to Rivendell."  
  
"Indeed," spoke Thranduil, his voice as deep and commanding as it was musical. "And thank you. Long has it been since I beheld your fair realm. I see that my son is well."  
  
"I am, Father." Legolas approached with Elenath at his side, bowing and then sharing a short embrace with Thranduil. "Though I have missed you greatly and desire to hear all of the news from Mirkwood."  
  
Elenath waited, her heart pounding loudly in her ears. She did not feel well. Not well at all, but when Legolas' father turned his gaze upon her, she sank into a low, formal curtsy. "Your Highness." Her mouth would barely form the words.  
  
"This is my granddaughter, Elenath," explained Elrond with a fond gesture toward her. "My pride and joy."  
  
The king's voice seemed to soften then. "I can see why, Lord Elrond. Please rise, Child. Let me look at you."  
  
She complied, meeting a gaze that was more kind than fierce.  
  
His touch was extremely gentle as he took her chin in his hand. "She has the look of her grandmother. And the heart, too, if the painting is any indication. It is no surprise that she has so thoroughly stolen my son's heart."  
  
The painting. Elenath glanced over at it and was amazed. The artist had painted the two Elf-maidens in all of their finery, welcoming the two weary warriors home. In the image Merethiel smiled shyly at Haldir while Elenath offered Legolas a ripe red apple. Calmakil lay glittering brilliantly at her side; however it did not come close to rivaling the love that shone brightly in all of their eyes. Elenath unconsciously reached for Legolas' hand as she gazed at the masterpiece. When she finally tore her gaze away, she realized that both Elrond and Thranduil were watching them carefully, already deep in conversation. Yet the king's shoulders were heavy with weariness and his companions still sat patiently upon their horses, awaiting their master's command. Their apparent unease and discomfort in their new surroundings endeared the party to Elenath's heart, and she smiled with a confidence she did not know she possessed.  
  
"Please," Elenath spoke directly to the king; then allowed her gaze to meet those of his companions. "You must be weary from your journey, My Lords. Come, partake of some refreshment at our table while your chambers are prepared. There will be plenty for all who have gathered here this night."  
  
As they adjourned to the banquet hall, Elenath smiled for she had never seen her grandfather gaze upon her with such pride. Nor could she see any trace of enmity in the king's eyes as he came up beside her and whispered, "Where is the fierce warrioress that my advisors so sternly warned me against?"  
  
She did not hesitate in her reply. "She has laid aside her Sword for this one night, out of love for your son, O King."  
  
He smiled kindly at her, dreading the request that he would present to Lord Elrond at the start of the council. If the princess wished to wed his son, she would have to lay aside her Sword for much longer than just one night.  
  
*** 


	45. The Council Begins

LEGOLAS FAN FICTION  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
45.  
  
Elenath awoke with the dawn the next morning and sighed as she contemplated rising from bed to face the new day. The scent of roses hung heavily in the air, and at first she thought it was but a dream. Her eyes told her otherwise. Strewn about her chamber, indeed upon the floor, the bed, and even the pale skin of her arms, were a thousand red rose petals. Like silk beneath her fingertips and upon her sleep-cooled cheeks they were, and she thought at once of Legolas.  
  
The princess had wondered when this would happen. The scattering of rose petals marked the beginning of the deep courtship that occurred just before marriage. Legolas would be waiting for her now in his chambers; waiting for her to wake him with a song of love, to tell him that she accepted his courtship. And though her voice was not as fair or fine as most Elven voices, she had secretly anticipated this moment since she came of age almost five hundred years earlier. She had even composed a song, which, as she lay in bed and went over the words, was just not suitable. Nay. She would have to compose another.  
  
She let her hair hang wild about her face, brushing it as smoothly as she could and weaving a wreath of roses to wear. Her gown was the deep green of the forest just before a rainstorm and she wore no shoes, wishing to tread as lightly as possible to her beloved's chambers.  
  
To the surprise of the princess, his doorway was guarded by two of the warriors from Mirkwood who had arrived with King Thranduil. They came to attention and bowed to her as she peered in through the door. Rats. She had not wanted an audience.  
  
Legolas lay asleep on his bed, his eyes gazing into nowhere and his hands folded peacefully upon his chest. The most contented of smiles curled the corners of his mouth. Elenath was reluctant to wake him, so serene was his slumber, but she opened her mouth and began to sing.  
  
"Arise now and wake, love  
  
Greet thou the new day  
  
The sun rises gladly  
  
O darkness away  
  
Across the green forests  
  
Across the blue seas  
  
Flies swiftly O swiftly  
  
The darkness away."  
  
The song, like her voice, was unpracticed but sweet, like a new mother's song to her child. Legolas smiled and blinked a few times before daring to look over at her.  
  
"Arise now and wake, heart  
  
Greet thou the new day  
  
My prince scatters petals  
  
O darkness away  
  
Across the green forests  
  
Across the blue seas  
  
Flies swiftly O swiftly  
  
The darkness from me.  
  
"My love has awakened  
  
Springs forth a new day  
  
My heart e'er grows lighter  
  
O darkness away  
  
Across the green forests  
  
Across the blue seas  
  
I'll follow thee always  
  
And ne'er go astray."  
  
Legolas sat up in his bed, his eyes never straying from Elenath's face. "If I were allowed but one possession in all the wide world, Elenath, I would choose you."  
  
She smiled at him and turned away, blushing at the smiles of the guards and walking quickly down the corridor toward breakfast.  
  
***  
  
"Elrond, I am not so cold and heartless as you believe me to be." Thranduil set aside his steaming cup and stood up to circle the council chambers, meeting the gazes of all who had gathered there: four of the king's advisors from Mirkwood, and four from Rivendell who knew Elenath well. Thorondil, Llilwen, Airedolas, and Gandalf.  
  
"It seemed so to me at the time," replied Elrond. "The first letter that I sent was very clear. Legolas and Elenath have a bond. An unbreakable bond. I informed you of that fact, yet you replied with the mandate that your son be sent home at once with Merethiel as his bride."  
  
The king sighed and sank back down into his chair. "Tell me," he said, "Truthfully. What you would have done if you sent your son away to meet his betrothed: a well-mannered, mild-tempered Lady of the Court; both beautiful and kind. But instead a fierce and wild warrioress charmed him and stole his heart."  
  
"That is not how it-"  
  
"Allow me to finish. You must understand. I heard nothing of this; absolutely nothing of my son's courtship, or lack thereof, for half a year. He wrote home and told of Rivendell's wonderful hospitality, and of her wondrous beauty. Never once did he mention Merethiel. Never once did he mention Elenath. Then suddenly I received your letter. Lord Elrond, I do not know your granddaughters. Of Elenath, I only knew rumors come from far away battlefields. A warrioress, fierce and wild. 'She has killed ten thousand Orcs! She has slain five thousand Wargs! She rides and fights and acts just like a male!' That is all I knew of Elenath. Is that the kind of wife a king would choose for his only son?"  
  
"Well I – "  
  
"Nay! Of course you do not understand. You have many sons; many daughters; many grandchildren. But I… I have only one, and he is the hope of Mirkwood."  
  
"Elenath is not a savage beast."  
  
"Yes! I realize that now. Imagine my surprise when she greeted me as she did. Her courtly manners are perfect; there is nothing coarse about her."  
  
"Than it is settled?" Elrond leaned forward in his chair. "You will allow your son to wed her?"  
  
Thranduil shook his head. "She is still a warrior. I can see it in her. The way she moves; the light of courage that shines forth from her eyes. It is in her heart just as much as Legolas is in her heart! Can I ask her to put aside the Sword? To promise never to ride into battle? You know her better than I, Elrond. What would she say to such a condition?"  
  
"I know not what she would say, King Thranduil, for her love for your son is pure and strong. But I would not allow it. It would destroy her."  
  
"Then we are at an impasse," sighed the king. 


	46. On the Practice Field

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
46.  
  
Elenath did not meet up with Legolas again until late in the morning when he came to the practice field looking for her.  
  
He smiled in relief. "Melamin my love, I feared I would find you sitting about being lady-like for the sake of my father." He took in the sight of her, once again in her leggings and tunic. She had tucked one single rose bloom into her braid.  
  
"I could not sit idly, Legolas. Your father and my grandfather sit in council to decide our future. Working with the Sword calms me."  
  
"Indeed," said the prince. He reached back and drew his long-knives. "Shall we spar?"  
  
A delighted smile crossed her face. "You are not afraid to be bested by a female?"  
  
"Nay. I do not plan to be bested!"  
  
"On guard, then," she replied, taking her defensive stance.  
  
They stood facing each other with weapons drawn, neither one wishing to make the first move, for a long moment. As they stared at each other, a small crowd gathered including many from Mirkwood.  
  
Elenath heard the shuffle of Legolas' feet as he finally lunged at her and she blocked the blow easily, spinning around to counter. The practice field was quickly filled with the clanging of their weapons and the cheers of the bystanders until,  
  
"Halt! Stand down!"  
  
Elenath obeyed at once, turning quickly to face Captain Thorondil who stood with Lord Elrond and King Thranduil at his side. All of the color drained from her face, and her heart pounded loudly in her chest. Sheathing Calmakil, she sank into a low curtsy. "Your Highnesses."  
  
Thranduil nodded to her. "Princess. Your grandfather thought that we might find you here."  
  
There was no use in lying; no use in pretending she was not a warrior. "Indeed, King Thranduil. I train each day with the Royal Guard."  
  
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "And do you make it a habit to slash at my son with sharp objects?"  
  
"N-no! No, Your Highness. We have never sparred until today."  
  
Elrond gave her a look that seemed to say, "Why today of all days?" But he remained as calmly silent as usual.  
  
"Father, I challenged her," said Legolas.  
  
"And so now do I challenge you, Elenath, protector of the Elves. Do you accept?" Thranduil stepped forward and drew his sword.  
  
The princess's eyes grew wide and she knew not what to do. But before she could stop to think about it, she heard herself responding. "I do."  
  
The king did not hesitate. As soon as Calmakil was in her hand, he was upon her with a fury even greater than Haldir's had been. Elenath struggled to deflect his blows and began to fear that he truly did want to kill her. There was no cheering crowd now; a dead silence had fallen upon those gathered. Just shy of one minute into the match, her foot slipped from beneath her, and the king had her pinned at the end of his sword to the forest floor.  
  
"Do you yield?" he asked, his eyes glinting.  
  
"Yes. I yield, Your Highness," she answered, slightly out of breath, humiliation spreading through her like wildfire.  
  
Thranduil sheathed his sword and turned to Elrond. "She fights well for one of her age, Elrond. Very well. I am most impressed. But no Elf – Sword- bearer or not – is invincible."  
  
With that the two Elven Lords walked away from the practice field, leaving Legolas to help Elenath up from the ground.  
  
"What was that about, Legolas?" she asked, her eyes wide with worry.  
  
He shook his head. "He was testing you, Elenath. I fear that my father will ask you to yield Calmakil to your grandfather so that a new bearer might be found. He worries that you will fall in battle before you can provide an heir to me."  
  
"That will not happen! Legolas, there will be an heir. We have both seen it. Remember?"  
  
Legolas remembered well the day that he had run to Elenath's aid. The day that Dimnarion had done what he had no right to do. The Sword had drawn him in and he had seen the vision of his wife – Elenath – and his child.  
  
"My father sees the Sword as a weapon of great power for defense, not for prophecy. We can tell my father what we saw, but it will not sway him." The prince took both of her hands into his. "Elenath, you must contemplate seriously the answer you will give when you are asked. Will you give up Calmakil to wed me?"  
  
She looked at the forest floor and turned from him. "Legolas, I love you. I cannot imagine my life without you in it. But I cannot answer that question. Not now."  
  
He wrapped his arms about her from behind and kissed the tip of her ear. "I understand, Melamin my love." 


	47. A Message from Mirkwood

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
47.  
  
Days passed and the doors to the council chambers remained closed to Prince Legolas and Princess Elenath. Both thought it bitterly unfair that they were not included in these discussions. Often they heard raised voices; once even weeping from within, but never were they invited.  
  
It was frustrating. Maddening, really. Elenath could barely contain herself for the restlessness that had invaded her heart. If she only knew one way or the other, it would be different. But not knowing was worse than torture. She could not eat. She could not sleep. She was too distracted to report to the practice field, so she simply sat outside the closed doors and said silent prayers. Prayers for guidance and direction. If it came down to it, she still did not know if she could put aside the Sword. After all it was her burden to bear. How could she go against the Sword's decision? Iluvitar's son had told her that the Sword speaks only truth, and Calmakil had chosen her. She could not shirk her duty simply to follow her heart, could she? And would she be able to live with herself if she did?  
  
The Elf-maiden sighed and looked once again at the closed doors, willing them to open, and to her surprise, they did. She scrambled to her feet and looked hopefully into the eyes of her grandfather.  
  
"Come inside," said Elrond, his face a careful mask. "Where is Legolas?"  
  
"He is with the contingent from Mirkwood, on the archery field, I believe." The prince had sat with her almost constantly, but that morning his comrades had convinced him to leave his vigil. Elenath knew that she should have joined them, but she had no desire to humiliate herself on the archery field.  
  
Elenath was welcomed to the Council Chambers by her parents and Gandalf, and she thought it a promising sign when Thranduil's advisors smiled and nodded to her. They had prepared a place for her to sit in their circle.  
  
Legolas was not long in arriving. He was dressed in the green and grey of Mirkwood with his quiver at his back, looking more relaxed than she had seen him in many days. The prince greeted her with a smile and a soft kiss on her forehead. As he sat, he whispered, "More lovely are you than even the crisp blue autumn sky, amaelamin my beloved."  
  
"And you," she answered, "are more handsome than the ancient oak who stretches his golden leaves high into that sky."  
  
He smiled and sat, taking her hand.  
  
Elrond leaned forward in his chair. "Elenath. Legolas. King Thranduil and I have agreed upon a proposal for you to consider."  
  
The king nodded. "Many days have we sat in deliberation. This compromise may seem undesirable to both of you, but please consider wisely before giving your answer."  
  
Elrond continued, "Elenath, you are my granddaughter and I seek only to look out for your best interests. I must see to your safety as well as to your happiness. At first King Thranduil asked that you set aside the Sword and give up your status as a warrior, but I knew at once that this would be a death sentence to you. You cannot tell a person to give up her identity. Not completely."  
  
The princess's eyes strayed to Legolas' father who quickly added, "Please understand, Princess. You have my utmost respect as a warrior. You fight well. I have seen you in practice as well as sparring with you myself. But I seek to continue my line. Mirkwood must have leadership."  
  
Elenath nodded. "Your highness, I assure you, there will be no difficulty in that regard. This union will produce an heir."  
  
"And, we would hope, quickly," added Elrond. "For this is our proposal. You shall set aside the Sword and give up your status as a warrior until an heir is born. In return, Legolas will do the same. Come invasion or call for help, neither of you will ride to battle."  
  
The princess took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly. "There have been very few Elven children born of late. It could be thousands of years…. And what of our skills?"  
  
"You will continue to train."  
  
Legolas shook his head. "There is no substitute for true combat. And what kind of a leader will I be to let my warriors ride to battle while I remain safe at home?"  
  
"Our warriors know that you are no coward, Legolas," said Thranduil. "And they would not begrudge you the happiness that they have witnessed, seeing you with Princess Elenath."  
  
"This, Young Ones, is our proposal." Elrond sat back in his chair to wait.  
  
Elenath closed her eyes and placed her hand upon the hilt of Calmakil. As she did so, the weight of her burden became apparent to her. The weapon pulsed in her grip; pulsed in rhythm with her own heart, and she realized that Calmakil was part of her. She could no more cast it aside than detach herself from her own arm. "I cannot shirk my duty as the bearer of Calmakil," she said softly, turning to Legolas. "My life belongs first and foremost to the will of He who commanded this Blade to be forged. To set it aside, even for a time, is not an option. Is there no other way?"  
  
The Council was silent. King Thranduil and his advisors gazed at Elenath with new respect in their eyes, but had no suggestions to make.  
  
Finally, Legolas spoke up. "The will of the Sword is the will of He who created the Elves. Who are we to question His plans? Perhaps if she rode into battle only at the call for the Sword's presence…. I would be at her side at all times, and I would never allow her to fall."  
  
"Nor would I allow you to fall, Legolas," she said.  
  
Thranduil opened his mouth to comment, but his words were never heard. For at that moment, the doors burst open, and a bruised and bloodied messenger from Mirkwood stumbled in. His blond hair was a mass of tangles. Blood covered one side of his tunic, and in his hand he bore a scroll. Collapsing before his king with his hand outstretched, he managed to gasp, "Urgent… must return at once… dire need…" before breathing his last. 


	48. Division

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
48.  
  
"Afaendil!" Legolas stumbled from his chair to kneel next to the fallen Elf. "You must not die!"  
  
As if hearing his prince's command, Afaendil trembled and took one weak breath, and then another…  
  
Elenath was next to them immediately, already shouting orders at attendants to bring medicines and healers as she gently removed the blood-soaked tunic. She gritted her teeth at the slash wound she saw there, knowing what kind of pain he must be in. "His name is Afaendil?"  
  
Legolas nodded. "Please help him. He is to me what Merethiel is to you. A true friend and a noble Elf. He has saved my life many times on the battlefield."  
  
As Elenath tended Afaendil, King Thranduil read grim news from Mirkwood. Orcs had raided his kingdom, killing few but wounding many. The warriors of Mirkwood held them at bay but requested the aid of their king.  
  
Thranduil stood up. "Legolas, we leave for home within the hour. Prepare yourself. Elenath, if you wish to return with us, please prepare as well."  
  
Elrond rose from his chair as well. "King Thranduil, you told me that the Orcs had all been driven from your kingdom! Now it is overrun with them. You are crazy if you think I will allow any member of my family to go to such a place."  
  
"Apparently, they came back." Thranduil shook his head. "I knew I should not have left so soon. I should have stayed home instead of attending your ridiculous council, Elrond!"  
  
"Redicu- Do you care nothing for your son's happiness?"  
  
"I have more pressing issues to deal with at the present moment."  
  
"Then you lied to me," Elrond's face grew hard and angry. "You lied to me!"  
  
Thranduil's eyes darkened. "I have no time to argue with a fool. Stand aside and let me pass."  
  
Elenath had heard nothing of the argument up to that point. She was too busy assisting the healers who had arrived. But she heard Thranduil call her grandfather a fool, and she heard her grandfather warn that if Thranduil left the council now, he would never agree to let her wed Legolas. At that, her head jerked up and she looked squarely into the eyes of both rulers. "Please-"  
  
"No!" Elrond shouted. "I will not allow you to live among Orcs and savage Elves, Elenath."  
  
"You are being unreasonable."  
  
"I have no time," stated Thranduil again. "Elenath, I am sorry, but I must leave at once. I wish that you did not have a fool for a grandfather. Please know that you will always be welcome in Mirkwood with or without Elrond's blessing."  
  
Elrond glowered at the king. "Legolas, you are welcome to stay here in Rivendell, but if your father so much as tries to take Elenath from me, he will wish he had never met her. My army will march on Mirkwood with such fury that he will beg for his miserable life."  
  
"And if you detain my son, Elrond, then I will send my army after you and you will rue the day you ever called me a liar!"  
  
With that the king turned and left the room, taking all of Elenath's hopes and dreams with him. But she could not think of that now. Afaendil's life was in her hands and he was quickly fading. She looked up at Elrond, pleading. "Help him, Grandfather."  
  
He did not respond, but turned away and gazed with dark fury down the hall.  
  
She stood up and took her grandfather by the collar of his tunic. Shaking him violently, she spat, "You help Afaendil now, or so help me I will leave here this very day and you will never see me again!"  
  
"Elenath!"  
  
"I do not lie," she stated simply.  
  
"Fine. Let me loose."  
  
Elrond bent over the fallen Elf as Legolas drew Elenath close to say goodbye. "I know that you understand why I must go with my father."  
  
She nodded, afraid to speak or her tears would begin to fall and never cease.  
  
"I will love you always. Perhaps at another time… when tempers have cooled… then we can be together. Look to that time, Beloved. I will wait for you." He bent to kiss her tenderly, and she held so tightly to him that he feared she would not release him.  
  
"I will never love another," she managed to whisper before he left. "Amin mela lle, Legolas I love you, Legolas…"  
  
Then he was gone.  
  
***  
  
Gone. Legolas was gone, and Elenath forbidden to follow. In her heart, she despaired unto death, living only to restore Afaendil's health. He had been so close to death that his recovery took many weeks. As he grew stronger, he became her lifeline and she was filled with mixed emotions. She wanted her new friend to get well, but she did not want him to leave her. Yet the day quickly came when she entered Afaendil's chambers to find him sitting up comfortably in bed, reading one of her books.  
  
It was not long until he was asked by Lord Elrond to depart. On that day, Afaendil took Elenath's hands in his own and kissed her forehead. "I have told you before of my anger when I found out that Legolas had given his heart to one other than his betrothed. But I understand now why he loves you so…. You have tended me well and been a good friend. I shall never forget you, lovely Elenath."  
  
She bit her lower lip so hard it drew blood as she gazed up at him.  
  
"Though," he continued, "I cannot imagine the brightness of your beauty if joy were to replace the sorrow I see in your eyes."  
  
"That will not happen until the day I become your prince's wife," she whispered, unable to hold her tears back any longer.  
  
Afaendil pulled her close. "Come with me…. I can make some excuse to stay one more night… and then we could leave after sunset and ride swiftly. By the time anyone noticed our absence we would be far away. They would never catch us."  
  
"Nay," she cried. "Thank you my friend, but nay. I would not be the cause of war between Mirkwood and Rivendell. Only… send word upon your arrival. Tell me how fares my Prince and his father."  
  
"On my life I shall do it."  
  
And so he left. Elenath went about picking up the broken pieces of her life, trying to cast aside her sorrow to take her place as heir to the throne of Rivendell. Yet even that noble cause did not save her. From that day forward, she sat in the throne next to her grandfather's, day in and day out. The princess rarely spoke and never smiled, and she became grimmer by the day. Then one morning, she did not bother to get out of bed despite her mother and father's pleas. Merethiel even attempted to beat her out of bed, but Elenath simply lay there and stared at the ceiling, waiting to die. 


	49. To the Aid of Mirkwood

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
49.  
  
Airadolas carefully folded his daughter's clothing at the foot of her bed where she lay pale and still, and packed them neatly into a leather bag. This had gone on for far too long and he was not about to stand by and watch Elenath fade before his very eyes.  
  
"Uuma dele Do not worry," he whispered to her gently. "I will take you to your prince."  
  
She did not respond, save to sigh in her sleep and turn her head to the other side. He echoed her sigh, wondering how it had come to this: his vibrant, energetic daughter reduced to sleeping all through the day and night in a slumber so deep that none could wake her.  
  
"Your mother is already preparing the horses. Do not leave us yet, Elenath. You shall live to see Legolas again."  
  
"Airedolas." The voice was unmistakably Elrond's. He stood in the doorway, his brow furrowed. "What are you doing?"  
  
Elenath's father had known this confrontation would come and faced it calmly. "I am taking my daughter away from this place. It is killing her to be parted from her Beloved."  
  
The two Elves' eyes met and locked for a long moment, as if in some great battle of wills, and it was Elrond who broke the short silence. "You will do no such thing. I will not allow it. She will stay here, and will recover with time."  
  
Airedolas turned from Lord Elrond back to his task, packing his daughter's clothing and other belongings: a miniature of the portrait with herself, Haldir, Legolas, and Merethiel; quill and ink; a gilded journal. "Nay, Lord Elrond. It is my right as her father to protect her."  
  
"I will use force if necessary, to keep her here. She is in no danger. I was setting quite a schedule for her and she is simply exhausted. Elenath will wake soon and return to her duties."  
  
"We will leave before the sun sets. Llilwen is readying the horses. And no force have you to use save your own. Thorondil and I are in agreement on this matter, along with the Royal Guard. Although they are loyal to you in all other matters, they will not see their friend and comrade die because of your stubbornness."  
  
"She only sleeps, Airedolas. Any fool can see that," anger was quickly creeping into the Elven Lord's voice.  
  
"If she sleeps, Lord, then why can I not wake her?"  
  
"Do not be ridiculous. Of course you can wake her!"  
  
Airedolas strode around his daughter's bed, sitting next to her gently and cupping her face in his hand. "Elenath, my love. Awake dear. Your grandfather would like to speak with you."  
  
Her eyes flickered open for a brief moment, unseeing, and then closed again.  
  
He stroked her cheek gently. "Come, lovely one. It is time to rise."  
  
She made no response at that.  
  
Elrond watched with growing horror. Finally, he asked Airedolas to step aside, and he tried everything he knew to wake his granddaughter. He shook her, poured water on her, shouted and clapped and wept over her to no avail. "Airedolas," he cried, "How long has she been this way? Why was I not informed?"  
  
"It was yesterday that she refused to rise. We tried to tell you, but you insisted that she was simply tired."  
  
"I was a fool," stated Elrond. "I am a fool! By the sea and stars, what have I done?"  
  
Airedolas watched in amazement as his Lord sank to his knees next to his daughter and begged forgiveness. "I will go myself," promised Elrond. "Please do not leave us. I will go at once to Mirkwood and retrieve your prince. And I will do anything in my power to see that you are together for all eternity. Please hear me, Elenath. You have reason to live. Do not fade!" With that, he rose and fled down the winding corridor to the stables.  
  
"Lord Elrond!" Airedolas pursued him. "You cannot go alone. Our scouts have told Thorondil that Mirkwood is embroiled in war with the Orcs. It is too dangerous!"  
  
"Then gather my army, Airedolas. We leave in one hour to ride to Mirkwood's aid."  
  
***  
  
King Thranduil of Mirkwood sat regally upon his horse and surveyed the scene before him for a moment. Orcs. Everywhere. As quickly as his warriors beat them back, more seemed to appear. Curse them, the foul creatures! And curse Lord Elrond of Rivendell for his foolishness! Had his old friend not called him to council, he would have been here to meet this threat head-on. But that was no matter. Old friend, indeed. With a great cry, Thranduil threw himself into the battle, hewing down the horrid beasts as quickly as his sword could swing.  
  
***  
  
Haldir and Merethiel did not leave Elenath's bedside. All the while Lord Elrond was away, they sat beside her, doing everything they could to convince her to live. They read to her, talked to her, sang and played music to her, and carried her out into the gardens that she might feel the warm sun upon her skin. They even placed Calmakil in her hand, hoping that it would heal her as it had when she was poisoned with grimleaf. But the Sword only caused her to slip into a deeper sleep. Her body grew cold and her breath grew shallow, and she mumbled and cried out and wept in her sleep.  
  
"May the Valar grant her more time," whispered Haldir. "Just a little more time. Elrond has been away for weeks now…"  
  
Merethiel placed her hand upon his arm. "He must return soon with Legolas, or all will be lost."  
  
***  
  
Thundering hoofbeats. That was all the Elrond had heard for days and it grated upon his nerves. A great warrior he may have been, but he hated every moment of every battle he had ever fought; every long march; every senseless death he had witnessed. They drew near now unto Mirkwood. He could smell the stench of Orcs; hear the sounds of battle. Over the rise they galloped, and when Elrond saw the fray before them through the dense trees, he screamed his attack, his warriors echoing him until the Orcs turned, horrified, and tried to flee.  
  
What was this? Thranduil looked toward the Elven battle cry in surprise, and his brow furrowed with fury when he saw Rivendell's armies coming toward him. Where was his son? He would not let Elrond take his son! A moment later he spotted Legolas at the edge of the clearing, surrounded with Afaendil by fell Orcs, fighting them with every ounce of strength they possessed. A large group of the Rivendell Elves rode toward them with their weapons drawn, and Thranduil spurred his horse to his son's aid, taking down Orcs as he went. But he was soon surrounded by the desperate beasts himself. Desperate because they were trapped. Elrond's forces had utterly surrounded the clearing.  
  
Thranduil was attacked from all sides. Furiously, he fought back, but he knew that he would soon be overcome. Thrown from his horse, he looked up to see a grinning Orc coming at him with raised spear. But just as the beast prepared to thrust his weapon through the king's heart, Elrond appeared behind it, beheading it with one swoop of his sword.  
  
"Up, up!" cried Elrond. "Your son needs our help! Come!"  
  
Confused, Thranduil stumbled to his feet and mounted his horse, spurring it quickly toward the last pocket of enemies that surrounded Legolas.  
  
***  
  
Elenath had been asleep. For so long, she had known nothing but darkness, and she had wished for death. Now she stood upon an unfamiliar path, and the Man that had called himself Iluvitar's son stood before her, scarred hands outstretched. She ran into his arms and basked in his embrace, feeling as if she had come home after a long and weary journey.  
  
"You are not supposed to be here," he said. "Have you not chosen to serve me with your life?"  
  
"I chose to serve the Creator," she answered, stepping away.  
  
"He and I are One," said the Man. "But how can you serve me with your life when you choose death? It is not yet your time, Elenath, princess of Rivendell. Go back!"  
  
"You do not understand," she began.  
  
"Go back!" he repeated. "Child, you have not yet fulfilled the plans that my Father has for you."  
  
"But-"  
  
"You must go back," he said gently, and Elenath broke down into bitter tears.  
  
"I want to stay here with you."  
  
The Man pulled her close and kissed her forehead. "I wish that it could be so, Child. But the time has not yet come. We shall meet again…"  
  
"At least tell me your name before I leave," she whispered.  
  
He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. "My name is Yeshua. Call on it at any time and I shall come to your aid."  
  
***  
  
The Orcs had never seen fury like that of the two Elven Lords who rode at them. Those who stood closest to their approach turned to flee, but Thranduil's arrows stopped their flight.  
  
"Legolas!" Thranduil's voice rose above the clash of swords. He could see his son, now unhorsed, standing back-to-back with Afaendil and slaying any Orc who dared come near. But he was wounded. Thranduil could see the bright red of his son's blood upon the earth. With a mighty roar that struck terror into the hearts of his enemies, the king rode forth next to Elrond, cutting a path through the fray.  
  
*** 


	50. An Answered Prayer

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
50.  
  
Elenath's eyes flew open so quickly that Merethiel cried out in surprise. Clutching at the blankets and flinging them aside, the princess sat up and gripped Haldir's shoulders. "The Sword. Bring me the Sword."  
  
A huge smile spread across Haldir's face as he swept her into his arms. "You are awake! Thank the Valar! You were near death but a moment ago." He kissed her forehead and both cheeks as Merethiel joined the embrace, laughing with joy. But Elenath gently pushed both away, a hand on each one's shoulder.  
  
"Please," she said, "The Sword. I have been a selfish fool, for my life is not my own to throw away as I please."  
  
They did not understand, but asked no questions. Elenath was awake, and that was all that mattered.  
  
With great reverence, Haldir took Calmakil from its resting place on the wall and placed in gently into the Princess' hands, watching in awe as the Blade glowed to life. The three diamonds especially glimmered and winked in the darkness.  
  
Elenath closed her eyes and saw the battle. She saw her grandfather save Thranduil's life, saw the Orcish blade pierce Legolas' side, saw her Beloved continue to fight despite his pain. Crying out, she set Calmakil aside and dressed, heedless of Haldir's presence. The warrior turned respectfully away when she flung her nightgown aside and rummaged through the bag that still lay at the foot of her bed. Tunic and leggings were found and thrown on in a matter of seconds. "A horse," she rasped, taking up the Sword again. "Ready a horse for me. Legolas is in grave trouble."  
  
Haldir gently but firmly grasped her by the shoulders and backed her onto the bed. "You cannot ride to Mirkwood. But a moment ago you were near death. You must rest."  
  
"Nay, nay! I must go to his aid!" She defied his grasp and stood. "I must leave at once." Then her shoulders slumped in realization. "But alas! There is no time. The trouble is now, yet Mirkwood is many days' ride hence. What shall I do?"  
  
Merethiel and Haldir watched in utter amazement as a look of enlightenment dawned on their friend's face. She spoke Yeshua's words aloud. "Call on me at any time and I shall come to your aid," and then, gripping the sword, cried out, "Yeshua! Yeshua! Send not your aid to me but to Legolas! He fights for his life on the battlefield of Mirkwood. Please make haste!"  
  
Then suddenly she was gone. Vanished without a trace. Merethiel gasped, and Haldir closed his eyes. "May the Valar be with her, wherever she has gone."  
  
***  
  
The Prince of Mirkwood was weary, his grip on life fading quickly. He tried to focus his energies on the foul creatures that attacked him, managing to deflect their blows and thrust his own blade home multiple times before collapsing onto the warm earth. He closed his eyes and awaited death, hoping that it would come quickly and without too much pain. The pain he already suffered was enough.  
  
Opening his eyes briefly, he saw the death-blow coming. A jagged Orkish blade was raised high above his heart, and he silently wept tears of regret for what would now never be. "Amin mela lle, Elenath I love you, Elenath," he whispered as the blade rushed toward his helpless form. He closed his eyes and felt… nothing. But he heard the loud cry of a female Elf and the clash of swords before he drifted into darkness.  
  
***  
  
How she came to be in the midst of the very battle the Sword had shown her, Elenath did not know. But she was there, and this was no dream. Legolas lay before her, crumpled and wounded upon the earth, the bodies of dead Orcs strewn about him. One thing was evident. He had not gone down without a fight. Afaendil struggled to come to his friend's aid, but was himself under attack, and so when one of the beasts raised his long knife to pierce the prince's heart, Elenath sprang forward to help him. She dispatched the Orc with one thrust from Calmakil and turned to defend her Beloved from the hordes that still came forth.  
  
None could stand against the Blade's light and the battle was over quickly, but Elenath was indeed both weak and tired. She sank to her knees beside Legolas and gathered him gently to herself, pressing his ear against her breast that he might hear her heart beating. "Live," she whispered, her tears falling into his golden hair. "Please live. For I must, and I do not wish to go on without you."  
  
His eyes fluttered open as the two Elven Lords reached them at last. They stood aside in awe and wonder at the Light that surrounded the two lovers.  
  
"Elenath… how came you to be here?" Legolas smiled and reached up to brush a strand of her raven hair from her face.  
  
"I know not," she answered. "But if you die here, Legolas, I will live in grief for all of eternity. Please do not leave me."  
  
"If by strength of will I may defy death, then I shall, my love. Only strengthen me with your kisses before I wake from this dream."  
  
"'Tis not a dream. This I promise," she answered, bending to kiss him gently. As their lips met, the Sword brightened, blinding all who had gathered. When the light dimmed, the princess was gone and Legolas lay fighting for his very life upon the blood-soaked ground. 


	51. After The Battle at Mirkwood

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
***A/N*** Sorry guys. I've been having trouble getting on here lately. :( But I'll post when I can, kay?  
  
51.  
  
Elenath opened her eyes and Legolas was gone. Or rather she herself had gone from him, for she found herself kneeling on the floor of her chamber, blood-soaked and battle-weary.  
  
"No," she whispered, "No…" She lifted her eyes heavenward, remembering the love and care that she had seen in Yeshua's eyes. "Let him live. Please let him live if you care at all for me…"  
  
Elenath felt strong arms reaching out to help her up and found that they belonged to Haldir. Gandalf and Merethiel were also there, staring at her in wonder. They had not known what to do when she disappeared, and it seemed that they had the same problem now that she had reappeared. Only Gandalf seemed unconcerned.  
  
"Calmakil wakens," he said. "Long has it been since the Blade so transported its bearer. Where did it take you?"  
  
"To Mirkwood," she whispered, "To Legolas who now lays near death upon a blood-soaked battlefield."  
  
***  
  
"Elrond? Is that you?" asked Legolas as he blinked in the light of the rising sun. Reaching out to the Lord of Rivendell, he gritted his teeth in pain.  
  
"Indeed," he replied as he went to work on the prince's grave wound. "Legolas, you must live, for I know not whom we just saw here with you. But when I left Rivendell, Elenath was sleeping the sleep of one who has no desire to live, her heart broken because of my foolishness."  
  
"I must go to her…" he whispered. "She was here but a moment ago…"  
  
Elrond began to chant as he mixed a poultice and applied it as gently as he could, wrapping it then in a clean bandage.  
  
"I saw her…" continued Legolas. "I felt her warmth; heard the strong beating of her heart within her breast. Nay, Lord Elrond. Elenath is not dying. She is alive."  
  
Thranduil knelt next to his son to offer what help he could. "Rest Legolas. Do not try to speak."  
  
"We need to get him back to your home, Thranduil. Will you lead me there?"  
  
"Nay, old friend. I will to better. Take my horse, for she knows the way and will go more swiftly than I could lead." He helped Elrond position the prince gently over the horse's back and then whispered into her ear, sending the two Elves flying through the Wood like lightning, straight to the elaborate maze of caves where Thranduil lived.  
  
The guards watching the gates were young and inexperienced, and Elrond recognized one of them as Raion. "Prince Legolas is in need of help, and quickly. Let me pass."  
  
The young Elf hesitated for a moment.  
  
"Your prince will die if you do not let me pass!" Elrond dismounted and carefully lifted Legolas down into his arms. "Take me to the healers if you have any loyalty for your king in your veins!"  
  
"Legolas?" Raion looked at the ashen face of his prince and blanched. "Forgive me Lord Elrond. We were told to allow no one to pass, but come. I will show you the way."  
  
Lord Elrond did not sleep that night. Nor did he sleep the next. He refused to leave the prince's side even when Thranduil had been called away on urgent business elsewhere in the kingdom. Elrond chanted and sang and dressed and redressed Legolas' wound as tenderly as if he were his own child. And when he had done all he could and the prince still lay pale and still upon his pallet, Elrond wept tears of frustration and begged him to live. Seeing Thranduil's home and his people up close had made him realize that Legolas' life was much more important than he had comprehended. This was not just about Elenath's life anymore. It was about the fate of an entire Elven Kingdom. Calling for a quill and parchment, he sat down to write a letter to his granddaughter.  
  
***  
  
Dearest Elenath,  
  
I know not if you are well enough to read this, for when I last saw you in Rivendell, your condition was grave. Yet we saw you only two days ago at the very battle in which Prince Legolas was severely wounded. Perhaps it was only our minds playing tricks. Perhaps you have left these shores and stopped to help along your way to Mandos. Or perhaps Calmakil has awakened and the Sword brought you here and then back to Rivendell again. I know not, but I pray that you are well.  
  
I have been caring for Legolas since the battle ended and I have done everything for him that I know to do. Still he is in deep sleep and does not respond. I write this to ask for your prayers and also for your forgiveness, for if I had let you return with Legolas and Thranduil in the first place, then this never would have happened. In my heart, I feel that your prince will live but I cannot promise this. One thing that I can promise is that I will return to you as soon as I am able and that I will bring Legolas with me if I can. Because of the trouble in Mirkwood, this will likely be my last correspondence until I return. King Thranduil cannot spare messengers or even birds to carry letters such as these when there are Orcs attacking his kingdom. Be well, my dear, and know that I remain  
  
Your Loving Grandfather.  
  
***  
  
Elenath had taken her place on Rivendell's throne when the letter came, and she wept as she read it out of joy that, at least when the letter was written, Legolas was still alive. But she worried for him, and prayed that he would recover. After a month had passed, she sent sentries to watch the approach to Rivendell so that she would know the instant her grandfather appeared. When a second and third month passed, she began to lose hope. She had had no word. Had her beloved left her? Had her grandfather been killed by orcs? Had all of Mirkwood been utterly destroyed? She sent letters begging for news and received nothing in response. Finally, in the middle of a bitter January, she decided that she could not wait any longer. She would ride to Mirkwood to learn what befell her loved ones. 


	52. Forgiveness

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily Kinsman (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
52.  
  
Lord Elrond read the letter from his granddaughter again, worry creasing his brow. She had written that it was two months since his last correspondence, and she begged for some word. "Grandfather, my heart yearns for you and for Prince Legolas, and I worry for those who journeyed so far with you. Only tell me that that you all are still alive, and I shall wait patiently for your return. It is the not knowing that causes me to grow restless."  
  
The letter had been accompanied by one from Mithrandir. "Elenath is well and has assumed the throne of Rivendell until your return. Her rule has been wise and just, and she remains ever ready to fly to your summons with Calmakil at her side. Please send some word by whatever means possible, for I fear that she grows restless enough to leave this place in search of you…."  
  
Elrond sighed. Messengers had been scarce, but over a month ago he had managed to acquire an elderly pigeon to send word to Elenath that he was staying with Thranduil to help with the war. He had told her that his services as a healer were needed more than anything, and the Elves who had come with him gladly fought to victory for Mirkwood again and again. But apparently, the letter had not gone through.  
  
"Lord Elrond?" A maidservant appeared at the door of his chamber and curtsied respectfully.  
  
He turned to face her, allowing a kind smile to grace his lips. "Yes?"  
  
"King Thranduil has returned and wishes to see you. He has news from the front."  
  
Elrond's smile broadened. How pleased the king must have been to find his son sitting upon Mirkwood's throne when he returned! Legolas had recovered in his father's long absence, though his wound still pained him greatly at times. "Thank you. Where shall I find him?"  
  
"In his audience chambers, my lord. Follow me."  
  
With a nod, Lord Elrond did as he was told. The maidservant led him through a palace that seemed very different than just a few hours ago when he had left the healers to get some rest. There was a spirit of joy and jubilation in the air. King Thranduil's news must be very good, for it was obvious that a great celebration was being planned. When they arrived at a large oaken door, the she-Elf knocked, opening it only when Thranduil's reply came clearly through the thick wood.  
  
"Enter!"  
  
The sight that greeted Elrond when the door swung open almost brought tears to his eyes. Father and son stood in an emotional embrace. Though both seemed weary, the great waves of joy that emanated from them were palpable.  
  
The king's demeanor changed as soon as he saw the Lord of Rivendell standing before him, and he stepped away from his son. "Elrond…" his voice was heavy, almost grim as he approached his guest. "Lord Elrond…"  
  
Elrond feared for a moment that Thranduil would bring up their old quarrels again; that he would ask him to return to his own realm at once. They had barely spoken five words to one another since Legolas fell two months earlier, for the King had been on the battlefield while Elrond remained with Mirkwood's healers. The Elven Lord bowed his head in humility, for he certainly deserved the king's scorn for his behavior back in Rivendell. But, to his surprise, Mirkwood's king did not speak harsh words or banish him and his family from Mirkwood for all eternity. Instead, Thranduil sank to his knees before him, his fist upon his heart in solute.  
  
"Lord Elrond, I owe you not only my own life, but that of my son and countless warriors of Mirkwood as well. I am at your service and ask for your forgiveness for my earlier behavior." He lifted his gaze then. "Tell me, what can I do to repay your great deeds?"  
  
Elrond was speechless for a long moment before he replied with his hand extended to help the weary Elf rise. "My old friend… I ask only your forgiveness and for a messenger to send word to my granddaughter that all is well here."  
  
Thranduil smiled. "Forgiveness was granted long ago, Elrond. And as for that messenger, I have a better idea, for the Orcs have been utterly defeated and driven back."  
  
Three days later, the Elven king and lord began the long journey to Rivendell. Behind them stretched the line of warriors that Elrond had brought with him and a large contingent from Mirkwood who surrounded their prince with the brightly colored royal standards of Mirkwood and lively music. The pace was slow, for Legolas was not yet wholly well, but the spirit was lively. After all, they were accompanying their prince to his long-awaited wedding.  
  
"She will be overjoyed to see you," Afaendil said to Legolas as they traveled.  
  
The prince regarded his friend with a knowing smile. "As I will be to see her, my friend. Am I to understand that your opinion of Princess Elenath has changed?"  
  
The warrior laughed. "Indeed. In fact I must say that I am rather envious of you."  
  
"Who would not be?" asked Raion as he traveled beside the prince, his eyes remaining steadily upon the road before them.  
  
Legolas regarded his page with an amused glint in his eyes. "Your time will come, my young friend. And as for you," he turned his attention to Afaendil, "I happen to know of a certain Elf-maiden who eagerly awaits your return to Mirkwood. Did you not see the look in Seriliel's eyes when she bid you farewell this morning?"  
  
Afaendil's cheeks colored slightly. "That I did, Your Highness. That I did."  
  
***  
  
Elenath sat at her grandfather's desk, making preparations for her journey into the wilds of Mirkwood. It would be terribly risky, she knew. There were precious few warriors left in Rivendell, so she would bring only Haldir with her. Her eldest uncle would assume the throne in her absence, which made her nervous for he had no interest at all in such things. But she was desperate for news and, for the sake of her own sanity, had no other choice. Glancing out of the chamber at the position of the sun, she realized that she needed to get ready for the small banquet being thrown that evening for her farewell.  
  
As if on cue, Merethiel appeared in the doorway with a maidservant at her side, a cloud of cerulean fabric in her hands.  
  
The princess smiled. Merethiel was already dressed in flowing white and she looked lovely, save for the melancholy expression upon her face. Elenath's smile faded somewhat. "What troubles you, Mer?"  
  
"Promise me you'll bring him back to me safely."  
  
Haldir. Her cousin was worried about Haldir. "Oh, Mer. Please try not to worry. Your beloved is more than able to –"  
  
"I know." Merethiel sighed. "I know. Come, you must get ready."  
  
An hour went by as Elenath was dressed, her hair partially braided with strands of gold into a circlet upon her head. The remainder of her raven curls fell down her back to her waist, and she looked lovely. She wished that Legolas could see her; wished even more that she could see him, his golden hair catching the fading light of the sun.  
  
"The banquet should be ready now," said Merethiel, taking her cousin's hand and squeezing it. "Perhaps we should go?"  
  
Nodding, she walked numbly toward the hall where her entire kingdom had solemnly gathered.  
  
It was probably the most somber gathering that Elenath had ever attended in the great hall. That is, until her sentinels came running into the almost silent room with joyful shouts, silencing the low hum of voices and the clink and clatter of silverware and china. "Lord Elrond returns! He has just ridden past the borders of Rivendell!"  
  
Could it be? Elenath could scarcely believe it. "Are you sure that it is him? Is there anyone with him?"  
  
"Indeed, Your Highness! The standards of Rivendell and Mirkwood both wave proudly at the head of the procession. There are many warriors with him. Come! Come and see for yourself!"  
  
In the distance, she heard the silver trumpets announcing the arrival of royalty to Rivendell. The princess leapt to her feet, her face covered in a radiant smile. Without another word she ran toward the sound, her entire kingdom behind her. 


	53. The End...

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world  
  
are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are  
  
copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
A/N Sorry this took so long. There were so many problems with the site and then I moved and it took a while to find the disk. Anyway, here's the grand finale! I hope you enjoy it. Watch this space. Who knows, I might have another story soon. ;)  
  
53.  
  
Elenath stopped short at the top of the rise a short way outside of the palace gates. They were approaching slowly, banners unfurled as the sentries had told her. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw her grandfather and King Thranduil upon their proud horses, but then dread filled her for Legolas was not with them. Merethiel had noticed this as well.  
  
"Perhaps he will arrive later," she offered. "Perhaps he was not yet well enough to travel."  
  
"Perhaps," whispered the princess, trying not to panic as the large party neared and Lord Elrond looked up to catch her eye.  
  
Her heart beat quickly in her chest and her legs longed to run to her grandfather as she had when she was a child, to be swept up into his arms. She longed for simpler times when Lord Elrond could calm the ache in her heart, heal any hurt, right any wrong. But she was no longer a child, and the agony that her heart felt at the absence of her beloved Legolas would not be comforted. Not by her grandfather or anyone else. So she stilled her heart and held fast her legs. Then, managing a smile, Elenath allowed her gaze to wander to the masses of Elves that accompanied the two royals. Why were there so many? The number utterly overwhelmed her. Those from Rivendell returned her smile with smiles of their own. But those from Mirkwood remained somber, their gazes searching and serious. Many remained hidden beneath their cloaks.  
  
Haldir nudged the princess's elbow. "Your Highness. They draw nigh. You must greet them."  
  
With a nod of thanks to him, she stepped forward, toward where they had stopped no more than five hundred yards away. One numb step after another, she approached them with all of the dignity and grace that she could muster. And with each step she took, her heart tore a little more because it became more and more clear that Legolas was not with his father beneath the standard of Mirkwood. Still, she managed a low curtsy before the king whose horse danced nervously beneath him. "Welcome, my lord, to Rivendell."  
  
Thranduil allowed a polite smile to touch his lips and nodded as he tried not to watch the hooded figure that stealthily crept up behind the princess.  
  
She moved swiftly toward her grandfather and lifted her hands to grasp his as tears of joy and despair began to well in her eyes. "Welcome home, Grandfather. My heart sings." she paused to still her wavering voice and took a deep breath. "My heart sings to see thee again."  
  
The proud and joyful look in his eyes spoke volumes, but Elenath did not hear her grandfather's spoken reply, if indeed he made one. She heard only the soft, familiar voice that spoke quietly into her ear as a warm hand lightly caressed her bare arm from behind. "Your beauty takes my breath away, Willow."  
  
The bittersweet expression in Elenath's eyes changed at once to pure, radiant joy as she let go of her grandfather's hands and turned. "There is only One in all of Middle-earth who calls me by that name," she whispered to the hooded figure who stood there. "Reveal yourself, for my heart refuses to believe that which my ears know to be true."  
  
The hood fell back revealing long golden hair and cerulean blue eyes that glinted with love in the last light of the setting sun. "Alas," said Legolas softly, "for I have come to claim the princess Elenath for my wife and have found a great Queen in her place."  
  
She was overcome with the sight of him, yet she reached out to touch his face as if trying to convince herself that he was real. "Legolas. I feared you were dead."  
  
Pulling her near he replied. "I feared the same of you, my love. Praise the Valar, I was wrong. if this is not a waking dream."  
  
"I assure you, it is not," she whispered, just before his lips claimed her own.  
  
"Tell me," he said between kisses, "Tell me that you will be my wife and I shall be the happiest Elf in all of Middle-earth."  
  
"I will," she replied, and a great cheer went up from the Elves that were nearest them and spread throughout the entire Company.  
  
***  
  
Legolas and Elenath were married less than a month later in a ceremony meant to bond two lives, two hearts, and indeed two kingdoms forever more. For many years, the prince and princess lived in peace among the green branches of Mirkwood. No one, neither Elf nor Man nor Wizard, would have guessed that a thousand years later Shadow would return and Princess Elenath would give her life to save her beloved. But that is another tale entirely.  
  
THE END 


End file.
